The Inadvertent Bystander
by Miss Romance-Lover
Summary: On a disastrous night out, Gabriella is witness to an attack on a stranger. When she helps him, she finds herself becoming more involved. Before long, a bond is formed that grows into something more. COMPLETE - EPILOGUE NOW UP!
1. Onlooker

**Here is my new story! This is written solely in Gabriella's point of view, so I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think with a review :)**

The Inadvertent Bystander

Unbelievable. 'Let's have a girls' night out,' they say. But I don't actually think it qualifies as a night out if the people you came with disappear without you. Now I'm practically stranded in the middle of London. Alone.

Erin decided to bring her boyfriend along for the night, and they did not stop arguing from the moment we got here. Eventually they both stormed out of the club, still yelling at each other. Kelly was knocking back the wine and I haven't been able to find her for the last hour, despite looking _everywhere _and calling her mobile countless times.

This is officially the worst night out of my life. I just want to go home. But the original plan was for the three of us to share a taxi at the end of the night, and I fear that I don't have enough cash left on me to pay for one all to myself.

Realising that I am standing in the middle of the dance-floor like a loner, I hastily walk away and make my way towards the door. Then I push my way outside, where the cold air greets me. I haven't worked out what to do next yet, so I seat myself on the little wall that is adjacent to the club entrance and think.

I haven't even had a chance to contemplate anything when suddenly I hear shouting, and my head snaps up abruptly. There is a scene unfolding in front of me. Two men appear to be having a fight, but one seems to be pulling most of the punches as he yells verbal abuse at the other. There is another man who, like me, is watching from a short distance away, completely uninvolved in the drama. But in the next second, he is heading towards the two men.

"Hey, you! Stop it, you're going to end up seriously injuring him," the man shouts at the one throwing the punches.

"Who do you think you are?" he slurs in reply, clearly far beyond drunk. "This is none of your business, mate." Throughout this exchange, the poor guy who was receiving the blows shrinks back quietly. He looks shaken more than anything else. But he seems to be okay as he gathers his strength and runs away from the scene, before his tormentor can turn around and continue.

I turn my attention back to the drunk thug and the other man. I don't know why I'm sitting here watching this, but I'm genuinely intrigued as to what's going to happen next. "Maybe not," replies the man. "But I couldn't just stand by and watch you beat the guy senseless." That was rather brave of him. Who knows what reaction he'll get to that.

"You what?" the drunk man starts darkly. "Say that again," he dares. _Don't do it_, I am willing the other man silently. I have a very bad feeling that his interference might cost him. But he doesn't seem fazed. It's as if he's seen this kind of situation thousands of times. "Look, you're clearly drunk," he replies calmly. "I just wanted to stop you from making a big mistake when you're in this state..."

And then everything seems to happen in slow motion. It doesn't, of course, but it's one of those events that shock you so much that everything else around you becomes irrelevant. The drunk man hurls himself at the other, knocking him straight to the ground. There is no other movement from the man, who is now lying motionless.

Yet the thug doesn't stop there. I watch in horror, like the other onlookers around me, as he boots the poor man hard in the side. He does this three more times, and I can hardly bear to look any more. I want to do something, _anything_ to stop him, but how can I without putting myself in danger too?

Finally, he stops, surveys the damage, and flees. I half expect one of the onlooking men nearby to go running after him, but no-one does. In fact, I can barely believe it, but people are walking away. Away from the scene, away from the man. This man could be dying, and they are all leaving him to it!

So I find myself running. Not away from him, but towards him. And then I'm screaming. "Help!" I'm sure there are supposed to be police patrolling the streets around here. Where are they when you need them? I'm kneeling down beside the man, who still hasn't moved. He's been knocked completely unconscious. "Someone, help!" I try again, my voice getting louder each time.

Then I frantically find my phone, and am just tapping out the emergency services number when two police officers appear out of nowhere. "An ambulance is on it's way, miss," says one. "What's the lad's name?" _They think I know him. _

"Oh, I...I don't know, I don't actually know hi-" I am cut off by the voice of the other officer, who has come across what looks to be the man's wallet. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he was knocked down. "His name's Troy Bolton. Did you see what happened to him, miss?"

"Yes, I did," I reply shakily, beginning to feel the shock of the situation. "What's your name?" asks the first officer, just as the ambulance pulls up. "Gabriella. Gabriella Montez," I answer, knowing that I am the only available witness.

"You can with him in the ambulance if you want," I am told, and I pause for a moment, watching the paramedics lift Troy onto a stretcher. I've done my bit; I've made sure this man got help, hopefully before it's too late. But even so, I don't want to walk away yet. I can't let him go through this alone. It's not right. I just know somehow that he deserves more than this. To be brought to the hospital all alone, as if nobody else cares.

So I nod slowly and follow the paramedics as they lift him into the ambulance. Then I find myself sitting there as we are driven away, watching him. And even though he is a total stranger to me; I am silently willing him to live.

**And there's the first chapter! **

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	2. Aftermath

**Well, when I checked my emails this morning to find that so many of you had added this story to your favourites, it spurred me on to get the second chapter written! Also, your reviews were so lovely, so thank you! To those of you who haven't yet reviewed – I would love to know what you think so far, the feedback really does make my day :) Anyway, enjoy! **

I enter the hospital, feeling like a spare part. The paramedics and doctors are talking at me as though I am this man's next of kin. Don't they realise that I am just someone who was there? I try to get a word in, to explain that I am a complete stranger to him – Troy Bolton. But then there is also a part of me that actually _fears _being sent away if I do tell them. I want to wait, to find out if Troy is going to live. At least until somebody else arrives.

Finally I am left alone after being told by one doctor that they are taking Troy to theatre for an operation. He explains that there is a bleed on the brain. "You can wait in the friends and family room," he says before he walks away. I make my way there, despite not being a friend _or _family member. But I have promised myself that I will stick around until a parent or friend turns up in my place.

So I sit, alone in the empty room. My watch says it is now after two in the morning. I am just wondering whether I should try calling my friends again, when my phone begins to ring as though the caller has read my thoughts. It's Kelly. I decide to answer it quickly, hoping that the hospital staff haven't heard it. I know they don't like people using phones in these places, but I don't particularly fancy standing outside in the cold at this hour. "Hello," I answer quietly.

"Gabi, where _are_ you?" she slurs down the phone. _Oh,_ now_ she remembers me. _"I could ask you the same question," I reply coolly. "Oh wait, I did. In the millions of voice-mails I left you earlier." Even in her drunken state, Kelly can tell I am not happy with her and I hear her wince at my tone. "Oh, don't be like that," she says. "Anyway, I'm home now. I thought you'd be here already."

"Well, I'm not," I reply, still not willing to thaw just yet. "Where's Erin?" She sighs at my question and I can immediately guess the answer. "She went home with that useless boyfriend of hers. Sounds like they kissed and made up," she tells me in a bored tone. We have been through all this with Erin before. "So, where are you?" she asks again. I let out a defeated sigh. I'll have to tell her now.

"Look, I'm at the hospital but I'm fine. When I left the club _alone, _I saw a man getting beaten to a pulp. I was the only one who stayed with him, so I went with him in the ambulance. I'm going to wait for news until his family get here." There is silence on the other end of the line. Obviously she thinks I'm crazy.

"Okay..." Kelly responds eventually. "But you don't know this man? I mean, it's not some guy who chatted you up in the club or something?" She seems to be sobering up by the second now. I guess I'm supposed to be the sensible one; the one who _doesn't _disappear without letting her friends know where she is. I think I have the right to, though. Both of my friends disappeared without me first.

"No! I told you, he was outside the club," I explain in exasperation. Suddenly the door of the family room opens and I end the conversation quickly. "I have to go. Call you later," I whisper before hurriedly hiding my phone and turning my attention to the door. A man and woman are walking towards me. The man looks grave and serious; the woman is in tears. I stand up slowly, sensing who these people are straight away.

The woman reaches me first, and appears to pull herself together as she looks at me. "Are you Gabriella?" she asks weakly. I nod and wait for her to go on. I can't think what to say. "I'm Lucille Bolton, and this is my husband Jack," she tells me, gesturing towards the man who nods at me in acknowledgement. "We're Troy's parents. A doctor told us that you were there when it...when it happened?" Lucille adds, wiping a tear from her face.

I nod again. I still don't know what to say to her. To either of them. All I can think of right now is what they must be going through. And it's even more hard to watch now that I have met them. Already, for example, I can tell that I am going to like this woman. "That doctor said that the paramedics told them you were the only one with him?" Lucille asks, and I finally find my voice.

"Yes, until the police came. But I wasn't the only one who saw what happened. There were a lot of other witnesses but they all just disappeared and I...The paramedics thought that Troy...that your son and I know each other. I tried to set them straight but I just couldn't leave him on his own." I am rambling and I know it, but I hope I am making some kind of sense. As I look up I find that Lucille is reaching for my hand. Jack Bolton has now moved closer to us and is looking at me with a similar expression to the one his wife is holding. They look touched. It is then that I realise something. I have just revealed to them that I was the only person to stop and help their son.

It's an awful thing to imagine, that all these people walked away while a man lay unconscious on the street. I didn't tell them this to get a thank you. I didn't _do _it to get a thank you. I'd like to be able to tell them that anyone would have stayed to help like I did. But of course I can't. Because nobody else did.

"Thank you," says Lucille softly. "It means so much to know that he wasn't on his own when he went through all this. Thank you for not walking away like the others." I give them a small smile, unsure of how to respond to that directly. So instead I say quietly, "how is he?"

This time, Jack speaks up. "He's still in theatre. He has a bleed on the brain and they're not sure if..." he breaks off and looks away. I can tell he is close to tears himself now. I can hardly bear it. How is it fair that a young man like that, so decent and brave, could be about to lose his life when the thug who did this to him got to walk away? I make a decision right then that I will do all I can to make sure he is caught.

I take a deep breath. "Troy...Troy tried to stop a fight. Another man was about to get hurt and he stepped in to try and calm things down. But the drunk man who was throwing all the punches turned on Troy instead..." I am unable to finish, but I know they've got the point.

"That's Troy all over, wading in like that. He's a Police community support officer, but he's training to become a fully fledged member of the police force. Even on his night off he'll do whatever he can to help others. I just wish he wouldn't take so many risks," Lucille explains before breaking down again. Jack puts a comforting arm around her, and I reach out a hand to pat her shoulder.

Hearing about Troy makes me want to know him. I told myself I would leave at this point. But I don't want to. And if I do go, I want to come back. "I...I know you don't know me, and Troy doesn't know me. I have to go home now, but I'd like to come back, if that would be okay with you?"

I don't know what I am expecting. I know it's an odd request, but I feel drawn to this man; this family. To my surprise, I see that they are both smiling kindly at me through their tears of distress. "Of course. You are more than welcome to, Gabriella." And so it is decided. And I find myself longing for everything to be okay. For Troy, for his family, and for me. So that I can have the chance to get to know him.

**Hope you liked it!**

**I am going to aim to update every week or so.**

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	3. Explanations

**Okay, so I did say that I would update week by week (and after this post I will!) but I have so many ideas for this story that I just kept writing! Plus at last count I had received ten reviews for just the last chapter, which made me very happy! So as a thank you to all my readers: enjoy chapter three :)**

Jack and Lucille ask me how I am getting home, given that I only got to the hospital via ambulance. I explain that I will get a taxi, as I know the number of a good service to call. Then I remember my money concerns from earlier and dive into my bag for my purse. If I didn't have enough money for a taxi home from the club; there's not much of a chance that I'll have even half the fare to get me home from here. Sure enough, my prediction is right. I sigh to myself, wondering what I am going to do now.

I look up, having momentarily forgotten that I am still standing in front of Troy's parents. Lucille is looking at the purse in my hand and seems to have guessed what my problem is. I watch as she gives Jack a meaningful look, and he promptly pulls out his own wallet. "Let me give you some money for the cab fare," he offers kindly. By now he has already taken out a twenty pound note to give me. I am mortified. I hope they didn't think I was hinting.

"Oh, really, I couldn't take that. You're very kind, but-" Lucille cuts me off mid-sentence, and takes my hand in hers. "Please, let us do this. We can't even begin to repay you for how you helped our son. Now I want you to take this money and get yourself home safely," she tells me insistently. I can't refuse her now. So I take the money from Jack and smile at the both of them in gratitude. "Thank you so much. I'll pay you back when I see you later," I say sincerely.

"There's no need to do that," they reply. I thank them again, make a mental note of the department we are on so that I can find it when I come back; and then say my goodbyes. I wonder whether they believe me when I say that I am coming back. I suppose I'll know by the look on their faces when I turn up again. I make my way downstairs and stand outside the hospital entrance as I take out my mobile and dial the number of the taxi service.

Luckily, I don't have to wait too long. When I finally arrive home and walk through the door of the apartment I share with Erin and Kelly, the exhaustion of the night's events seem to catch up with me. Kelly is still up, and is sitting in the lounge looking at me expectantly. I haven't got the energy to yell at her again, and neither can I be bothered to explain myself. So instead I wave my hand in her direction and mutter, "I'm going to bed, we'll talk later." Then I go to my room and collapse onto my bed, letting sleep take over.

_**.HSM.**_

I finally resurface around 11am, and by then Erin has also returned home. As I walk into our small kitchen I see them both sitting at the table, staring up at me. It is quite clear that Kelly has told Erin everything she knows so far. This is so unfair. I should be the one staring them down after their performances last night.

"Well?" says Kelly, waiting for me to tell all. I don't respond, so next is the turn of Erin, who adds, "Are you going to tell us what happened or not?" I groan and eventually take a seat opposite them.

"Fine," I reply calmly. "Well, first my two best friends ditched me and left me all alone in a nightclub – without enough money for a taxi home, I might add." They are now both looking at me guiltily, and I am glad they can see that they were in the wrong. I continue my explanation before they can try and come up with any grovelling apologies.

"So I left the club and when I got outside, I saw two men fighting. Well, I say fighting, actually what happened was that one man was beating up another. There was another man who was just watching from the sidelines, like me. But then he went over and tried to calm things down. So the drunk guy turned on him instead and then ran away, as did all the other witnesses. That poor man was only trying to help, and he ended up unconscious with a bleed on his brain," I finish, feeling yet another pang of sadness for Troy and his family.

My friends look incredulous at my story. "So this man was beaten in front of you and several other people, and _everyone _else ran away?" asks Erin. She is the most sensitive person I know. She must find this even harder to comprehend than I did. I also suspect that she is the least hungover this morning. She barely had any time to drink, given all the arguments she was having with her boyfriend last night. Come to think of it, I stopped drinking after midnight, and I had plenty of time to sober up after what I witnessed. Kelly, on the other hand, looks awful. I'm surprised she's even awake.

"Yes. That's exactly what happened," I answer. "I just couldn't be one of those people, so I stayed with him. I went with him in the ambulance, and then I met his parents at the hospital. I'm also going to go back there today." At my last statement, both Erin and Kelly look even more shocked.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, getting involved in this?" Erin asks, looking worried. "Gabi, what you did was amazing, but this man's family must be going through hell right now. Maybe they would prefer to be left alone," she says, and I can see where she is coming from. I was thinking the same thing when I asked Troy's parents if I could come back. But for some reason, they didn't seem to mind the idea in the slightest.

"I know, but it's okay. I asked Jack and Lucille if they would mind, and they said I was welcome to come back," I reply. Then I realise that they have no idea who those people are – which is made clear by their confused expressions. "They're the man's parents. And his name is Troy," I explain. As I mention his name, I have a sudden strong urge to go to the hospital _now. _Troy doesn't even know me, and yet here I am, anxious to know if he is going to be okay.

So without another word, I disappear from the kitchen to get myself ready to go. I return to my friends to tell them I'll be back later, and they don't say any more on the subject; although I can tell by their faces that theyhave much more to say. However, they both apologise repeatedly for deserting me. They probably think I'm crazy for doing this. And maybe I am. But I can't say I care.

I drive myself to the hospital without hitting any traffic. It's a Saturday, and there is most likely football on the television that is keeping everyone indoors for the day. When I arrive I head straight for the department I left Troy's parents in less than twelve hours ago, feeling glad of my good memory that allowed me to easily recall where it was. There is no-one manning the reception desk but I don't want to just barge in, so when I get to the door of the family room I look inside first. And there are Jack and Lucille.

I quietly open the door and walk in. Again, we are the only ones in here, of which I am glad. I still feel like an intruder; and of course, really I am. But they both smile kindly at me when I approach them. I take a seat next to them and give a small smile in return. They both look exhausted, and I can see that they had both been crying before I got here. I reach out for Lucille's hand. I am scared to ask how Troy is or if there is any news, in case the worst has already happened.

Luckily for me, I don't have to ask. They can sense what I want to say, and Jack speaks first. "He came through the operation okay – the doctors managed to stop the bleeding. But he hasn't regained consciousness yet. The doctors are saying that Troy may have gone into a coma." There is no adequate response to that. But suddenly I am hoping more than anything that he wakes up soon. If he has fallen into a coma, then day by day more of this family's hope will dissolve. "We were just sitting with him, but we came in here for a minute, just to gather our thoughts," adds Lucille.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! The last thing you need is me barging in here like this," I reply quickly as I start to stand up. But Lucille is quick to stop me in my tracks. "No no, don't be silly, we're glad you came," she tells me, motioning for me to sit back down. Just as I am contemplating if now is an appropriate time to return the money I borrowed, a doctor enters the room in somewhat of a rush.

"Mr and Mrs Bolton, your son has just regained consciousness," he explains. Lucille bursts into tears of relief. Jack lets out a deep breath, as if he has been holding it in all night and day. And I stand there, feeling thankful on their behalf. I never thought I could worry so much over the well-being of a stranger. But I have already learnt enough about Troy to know one thing for certain: I don't want us to be strangers anymore.

**Next chapter will see Gabriella meet Troy properly for the first time. Thank you for following this so far!**

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	4. Meeting

**Thanks so much for all the reviews! **

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As Troy's parents follow the doctor out of the room, I sit back down where I am. Although I want to go and see him for myself, I wouldn't dream of rushing into Troy's room right this minute. He won't even register his parents' presence until he has fully woken up; let alone the sight of a total stranger.

About twenty minutes pass by, and I am just considering coming back another day when Lucille suddenly returns to the family room. She walks towards me with her ever-kind smile still on her face. "Would you like to come and meet Troy?" she asks, and immediately I start to feel nervous. I have no idea what I am going to say to him. But I still want to meet him, so I smile back and nod, then follow her out of the room and into Troy's hospital room, which isn't much of a distance away. I pause behind her for a few seconds as she opens the door, and allow myself to take in the sight before me. It's breathtaking to see the injuries that were inflicted upon him, even though I saw them before, first-hand.

His face is bruised severely, and the top of his head is covered in thick bandages. As I remember exactly how he was attacked, I move my eyes to look over the rest of him and see that there is still a boot mark on the side of his body. To think that another man actually kicked him like that is barbaric. Of course, it has happened to many others before, and disgusting as it is, I'm sure it will happen again. But hearing about it on the news means we can switch off our brains afterwards at the thought of it if we want to. I know I will never be able to do that. The memory of what happened to Troy will stay in my mind forever.

I snap out of my thoughts when I hear Lucille's voice again. "Troy, this is Gabriella." She is sitting on a chair at Troy's bedside, holding one of his hands. Jack is sitting on his other side, watching over him intently. I move a little closer to Troy, standing at the end of his bed shyly. He is looking up at me with his big, blue eyes. After a few seconds, his face cracks into a weak, but genuine smile. And that smile is all it takes for me to feel at ease. There is something about it, so warm and welcoming despite all that he is going through.

"Hi," I say softly. "It's nice to meet you." I am smiling too now, and I can feel it.

"Gabriella was there when you were attacked, Troy. She stayed with you and even went in the ambulance with you," says Jack. I realise then that Jack and Lucille must have found a moment earlier to explain what had happened to him; as the mention of his attack doesn't seem to faze him.

Troy is still looking at me, still smiling. Then he opens his mouth to say something. Although his speech is a little hoarse, I can understand him perfectly. "Gabriella...Thank you." There is overwhelming gratitude in his statement, and it almost moves me to tears.

At that moment another doctor walks in, and I recognise him from when Troy was first brought in. He doesn't object to my being here, so I presume that Jack and Lucille haven't informed anyone that I am not actually a friend or relative. The doctor smiles kindly, and after he greets us, begins to explain Troy's current condition.

"There are no signs of brain damage here. From the checks we carried out when you came round, Troy, there is no reason why you shouldn't be able to make a full recovery in time." The room is silent for a moment. It's as if everyone is wondering if what they just heard was for real. Then Lucille speaks. "So, he'll be able to walk again?"

The doctor smiles and nods at her. "Yes, Mrs Bolton." Then he addresses Troy again. "Once we get you back on your feet, you'll be able to start regular physiotherapy." He discusses all the formalities of this, then says his goodbyes and leaves the room. Troy's parents look ecstatic. I look over at Troy himself, but he looks as though he is about to doze off. His mother gives his hand a squeeze, places a kiss on his forehead, and then gestures for us all to go outside.

The moment we step outside the door, we come face to face with two police officers. "Hi there," one says. "Are you Mr and Mrs Bolton?" Jack and Lucille just nod. We seem to be doing a lot of that – nodding. The policeman continues, "we've just been told that your son has regained consciousness. Is this a good time? We need to ask him some questions about the assault."

"Troy's still not quite himself yet. He seems to be drifting in and out of sleep, so if you could come back tomorrow instead?" Jack replies politely. The policemen agree, then turn their heads to look at me. I decide to explain my involvement in the situation. "I was there when Troy was attacked. I saw everything, so if you need me to answer any questions too..." I begin.

"Okay," replies the first policeman. "What's your name?" I am a little shocked that they haven't already been told about me. I gave my name to the police at the scene. And I was the only witness around. Shaking off my surprise, I give my name again, and am asked to go into the family room so that I can talk to them. I give a little wave to Jack and Lucille, who smile encouragingly at me, and then I follow the officers away. I am anxious to make sure I tell them every detail of what happened the night before.

_**.HSM.**_

By the end of the day, I have not only answered every question thrown my way; I have also given a full statement at the police station, having promised Jack and Lucille that I would return the next day as I left the hospital. Before I left them, though, I also insisted on paying back the money they had given me for the taxi home earlier.

And so I am making my way back to the hospital on Sunday morning. When I arrive outside Troy's hospital room, Lucille sees me immediately and ushers me in. "Hello Gabriella," she greets me. I say hi back and notice that Jack is not in the room at the moment. As if she has read my mind, she adds, "Jack is just getting us some coffee." It is then that I turn to look at Troy properly and realise that he is awake. In fact, he is sitting up, and looking a lot better than the day before. There is colour in his cheeks, and he is smiling at me even more vibrantly than he did yesterday. It almost makes me melt.

"Gabriella," he says softly. "Hi, nice to meet you. Sorry I was so zoned out yesterday. So, I hear you saved my life?" There is a twinkle in his eye as he speaks, and I can't help but laugh at his last statement. "Hi," I reply. "Well, I wouldn't say I saved your life, really. I just-"

Lucille interrupts before I can finish. "Oh, she's far too modest," she says to Troy in all seriousness. "The fact is, Gabriella was the only person to stay with you and call for help." Troy looks amazed, and I don't know whether it's because of what I did, or because nobody else did it but me. "Well," says Lucille, standing up from her seat. "I think I'll just go and see what's taking that husband of mine so long!" And with that, she leaves the room. Troy and I grin at each other. It is obvious to both of us that his mother left us alone on purpose.

"Ah, my mother's special talent," says Troy, making me laugh again. Then his face grows serious. "Thanks. For what you did, I mean." I walk over to him and take a seat in the chair that Lucille has just vacated.

"Oh, I...you're welcome," I stutter. "I saw what you did...when you tried to stop that fight getting out of hand and I...well, you were very brave. That guy looked just as dangerous as he turned out to be." Troy shrugs off the compliment, but he is still smiling at me.

"It's nothing, really. I'm a PCSO. I've seen that sort of thing a lot, but this was the first time I ended up on the receiving end of it," Troy explains.

"Your mum was telling me about your job. She said it's just like you to take risks like that," I reply. He smiles knowingly at that. Then he asks me a question. "So, what do you do?"

"I'm a teacher," I answer. "It's a great job, although my colleagues tell me I'm only saying that now because I've just started out," I add with a chuckle. Troy laughs along with me, and just then a nurse enters the room to deal with his medication. "I guess I'd better get going," I say reluctantly, knowing that I still have to prepare for tomorrow's lessons.

Troy actually looks slightly disappointed. "Of course," he replies. "Can I ask you something, before you go?" I smile and wait for him to continue, wondering what he is going to say. "What made you stay here to meet me? I mean, my parents were saying you've come back twice now."

I am embarrassed, because I don't really know how to explain it. I look down at my feet as I finally reply, "I just...I really wanted to meet you. I couldn't leave without seeing for myself that you were okay." It's all I can come up with, but it's the truth. I force myself to look at him, and he is smiling again.

"Will you come back?" Troy asks sincerely, and I know my answer before he has even finished the question. "Definitely," I say, knowing that I will have no trouble keeping that promise. No trouble at all.

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	5. Bonding

**I am loving the response to this story! Please keep letting me know what you think :) And now, enjoy chapter five...**

True to my word, I do go back and visit Troy the next day. In fact, I go directly to the hospital from work. When I arrive, I look through the door first and see that there is a tall, dark man with an afro hair-do sitting in the chair next to Troy's bed. I am just debating whether I should go in quite yet, when Troy catches my eye and manages to lift his hand to wave me inside. He seems to be looking better by the day, and looking at him now, it is almost hard to believe that he is the same man who was brought here in a critical condition just days ago.

As I make my way into the room, the man I don't know instantly grins in my direction. In turn I give him a friendly smile back. "Hi, I'm Gabriella," I say and he nods knowingly, then turns and winks at Troy. Troy suddenly looks away in embarrassment and the man realises it is up to him to introduce himself now.

"Good to meet you, I'm Chad. I hear you're the one who came to Troy's rescue the other night. I wanted to thank you myself," he says sincerely. "I was out with him too that night, but I went home early. I didn't know he'd end up on his own like that. Turns out the other guys we were out with just left for home without him." He sounds deeply remorseful, as though what happened was his fault. I decide to put his mind at ease.

"Listen, you weren't to know what was ahead. _You _weren't the one who left Troy on his own, either. My friends ditched me too that night, actually," I tell Chad. Then, hearing Troy cough forcefully as though trying to hint something, we both turn our heads towards him.

"Hey," he exclaims at Chad. "Excuse me, it's not like I needed babysitting, you know!" His tone is serious, but then turns much softer. "Gabriella's right, this wasn't your fault," Troy tells his friend with a smile. Chad smiles back and says no more on the subject. The room is suddenly filled with silence and, just as Troy's mother did the day before, Chad chooses his moment to leave me alone with Troy. "Think I'll go and find out where I can get some food in this place. I'll be back," he says, throwing another wink Troy's way.

When Chad has left the room, Troy is quick to speak. "Sorry about him," he tells me, obviously embarrassed again about his friend's not-so-subtle expressions. I know that Chad is implicating that Troy likes me; and it doesn't bother me. I hope he _does _like me – because I can't stop myself liking him more and more too. "Don't be," I reply, taking a seat next to him. And for the rest of my visit we continue talking, telling each other things about ourselves. And I return home with a smile that refuses to leave my face.

_**.HSM.**_

I visit Troy every day after I finish work, and the days slip by in this same routine. By the following week, Troy has begun physiotherapy sessions and is finally up and about. Since giving my statement to the police, neither I or Troy's family have heard anything more. But at the moment nobody is focusing on that. All energy is going into helping him to get better.

On the weekend of his fourth physiotherapy session, Troy asks me to come with him. I say yes without hesitation. I know by now that if nothing else, we are firm friends. Erin and Kelly are still finding it hard to believe that I am putting in so much effort for a man I have only known a few weeks. But they haven't tried to stop me from being here. I arrive outside Troy's hospital room just as he is being pushed out of the door in a wheelchair by Lucille. He looks tired and anxious, but seems to brighten when he sees me waiting for him.

"Hi," he greets me with that smile that I can't get enough of. "Hi Troy, Lucille," I answer cheerfully. I don't want to make Troy feel any worse by letting him know I have picked up on his anxiety. "Hello, Gabriella," his mother replies in an equally optimistic tone. She gives me a look that says, 'do you want to try and talk to him?' and I nod. She smiles and moves aside to walk with Jack, who has just appeared behind us. I greet him and then stand behind Troy, taking over in wheeling him down the hall where I spot the sign that alerts me to where his physio is being held.

"You okay?" I ask gently, and I hear Troy sigh softly. For a moment I think that he isn't going to answer me, but he speaks up anyway. "I'm fine. It's just taking me longer to get back to normal than I'd hoped."

"Troy, you were seriously injured," I tell him. "You have to give yourself more time - things could have been so much worse. You're doing great already." I don't know where this sudden reassuring response is coming from. Usually I am useless when it comes to giving advice of any sort. But I have found myself believing in this man wholeheartedly.

"Thank you," he whispers. Then he reaches up for one of my hands and gives it a gentle squeeze in appreciation. It's as though this pep talk is all it takes to give Troy that extra boost for today; because after that, he becomes re-energised. As a result, his physiotherapist, Adam, is visibly impressed as he watches Troy manage to walk a few extra steps unaided. Adam has also given him some muscle exercises to practise in between each session. As I stand and watch all of this, all I can think of is the display of strength and bravery that is being demonstrated before me.

_**.HSM.**_

By the end of the weekend, Troy is allowed to be discharged to go home. Of course, he cannot yet go back to his own home until he has grown stronger. So he goes from the hospital to his parents' house, which is also local. I take the assumption that they will all want to have a couple of days in peace to get settled, but to my surprise and delight I am wrong. Lucille invites me round for dinner the evening after Troy leaves hospital, and I happily accept.

By the time I find myself poised to ring the doorbell of the Bolton house, I am feeling slightly nervous. Having never seen these people outside of the hospital before, I don't know what to expect. I don't know if this is a formal or casual dinner, or whether I am dressed appropriately. I am wearing my favourite long cream dress and my black ankle boots.

But as I ring the bell and am greeted by a beaming Lucille half a minute later, I relax instantly. I know this family – they are my friends. She leads me into their living room, where Jack is sitting in an armchair, and Troy is on the sofa. I say hello to both of them and am then told to take a seat, so I plant myself next to Troy.

As we turn to each other and smile in our own silent greeting, I look at him more closely. He has dressed in what can only be described as smart/casual wear, and looks...amazing. If it wasn't for the now smaller bandage and the bruises covering his head, I could forget for a moment about the attack and all he has been through. Somehow I know that I never will, though.

It isn't long before we are ready to eat what becomes the most delicious meal I have had in a long while. My flatmates and I aren't the most adventurous of cooks – our skills rarely extend beyond a basic stir fry. Conversation flows easily, and the time flies by until I realise that I had better make a move. I thank Jack and Lucille for their kindness, then go to say goodbye to Troy, only to find him preparing to stand. I am about to protest that there is no need for him to get up when I spot the determined look on his face.

Troy is on his feet in less than a minute and I watch as he steadies himself and takes a step. I walk around to his side of the table and keep him balanced by linking my arm with his, and then bid his parents goodbye as we head towards the front door. As I open the door, he leans against the wall to rest, smiling softly at me. "Thanks for coming tonight," he tells me.

"You don't need to thank me," I reply. "I had a great time." Troy's smile grows even wider at my response, and as I move a bit closer he envelopes me in a hug. I lean into the embrace, and it's as though the two of us fit together. There is something so right about this simple hug, and I don't want to let go. But eventually he pulls back, and places a kiss on my cheek.

"So, see you soon?" he asks as though there is still an ounce of doubt in his mind about whether he _will _see me again. "See you very soon," I tell him. "Good night."

"Night, Gabriella," Troy replies, and I finally move away from him and force myself to walk out of the door. And in that moment I realise that I have fallen for him.

**So, what did you think? I thought I'd move the time along just a little bit to get the story going. **

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	6. Together

**Wow! I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone for the amazing reviews! Several of you are reviewing each chapter as I post it; and it was great to find that some of my new readers have actually taken the time to review every chapter to date! I have a feeling you might like this chapter ;) So here it is...chapter six. Enjoy!**

This new realisation: that I have fallen for Troy, is still occupying my thoughts the next day at work. I am able to teach my classes just fine; but deep down my mind is distracted by him. This is not a familiar feeling. But that doesn't mean I don't like it. It just scares me a little.

I have a meeting that runs late after school finishes for the day, so I cannot go back to visit Troy until the following day. When the meeting finally ends I head straight home, exhausted and starving. Luckily Erin and Kelly are waiting for me with a takeaway that one of them must have picked up via their own route home. I walk into the kitchen to the inviting aroma of various Chinese dishes which are laid out on the table, ready for us to share.

"Hey Gabi," my friends greet me. I haven't seen them properly since the day before, having arrived home late after dinner at Troy's house. "Hey, you two," I reply. "The food looks great, how much was my share?" Erin shakes her head in objection and rushes to correct me. "No no, this is our treat," she explains, gesturing towards Kelly and herself as she speaks. I think they are both still trying to make it up to me for abandoning me on that night out. Might as well let them.

"Okay, thanks!" I say as I take a seat and dig into the food. Kelly goes to the fridge, retrieves a bottle of wine and pours us each a glass. Then she gives me a knowing look that is similar to the one Troy's friend Chad gave me when he first met me. "So, give us the details," she teases. "How was last night?"

"What do you mean, how was it? I just went round to Troy's parents' house for dinner," I answer casually. The way she is talking, you would think I had been on an actual date. "Yes, we know that," says Erin. "We were only asking." I sigh. Maybe I am being too guarded. They are only taking an interest, after all. "It was lovely," I tell them honestly. "The dinner was delicious, too."

"And how is it going with you and Troy?" adds Kelly. I just knew they were fishing for information! The two of them have certainly changed their tune – it wasn't that long ago that they were both apprehensive about me and Troy. Then a thought occurs to me: maybe now I can confide in them about my feelings. "We're just friends," I reply. "But to tell you the truth..."

"Ooh, what? Go on," they interrupt before I actually _can _go on. My friends are so impatient. But at least they are keen to listen. "I really like him, and I don't just want to be friends with him. I want to be more," I explain, wondering if I sound a bit pathetic. Apparently they don't think so, because they immediately start telling me to go for it. While the encouragement is nice, it's easy for them to say. How exactly am I supposed to 'go for it'?

_**.HSM.**_

I am still pondering their advice later that night, and by the time I am driving over to Jack and Lucille's after work the next day, I am nervous. It's as though I suddenly don't know how to act around Troy now that I know how I feel about him. When I arrive I see that Troy's parents are outside in the garden. The back gate is open so I stick my head round and make my presence known. "Hi!"

"Hello, Gabriella, how are you today?" says Lucille, happy to see me as always. "I'm fine thank you, and yourselves?"

"We're very well thank you," replies Jack with a smile as he turns on their lawn mower and gets to work. Lucille pulls me aside. "I thought I'd set him to work, seen as we have a lot of gardening jobs that need doing around here," she chuckles. "Troy's in the living room."

"How is he today?" I ask, remembering that he would have been to another physiotherapy session this afternoon. She thinks over my question for a minute. "He seems fine. A little on the quiet side I thought, but then sometimes I need to remind myself that he has been through a lot." I nod and then excuse myself to go and see Troy, leaving Lucille to keep an eye on her husband's gardening skills.

I walk inside and smile as his eyes appear to light up when he sees me. He is sitting on the sofa, and moves across it to make room for me. "Hey," I say softly and it occurs to me that all my nerves are now gone. "Hi," Troy replies. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, you?" I ask, wondering how his session went. He is quiet for a moment and this makes me think he has had a bad day. But his answer reveals quite the opposite. "Yeah, not bad. Adam was really pleased with my progress. He says that at the rate I'm going, I should be back to my old self in no time." Troy is smiling as he says this, but I notice that he also seems a bit anxious, despite his successful day.

"That's great! I'm so glad you're doing so well," I tell him. And then, just like my cloud of nerves disappeared when I saw him; his whole face changes too. He is grinning in a way that only Troy Bolton can. He moves closer to me and whispers, "I have you to thank for that."

"Me?" I blurt out in shock. "What did I do, Troy? All of this is down to you," I tell him. But he is shaking his head at me now. "You're the reason that I'm still here and able to get better," he explains. "And you make me want to keep going, just by being here when I need you."

My eyes are locked on Troy's now. Of all the things that he could've said, I wasn't expecting that. But he is not finished yet. "Gabriella..." he starts, but then pauses as though unsure of how to say something. "Yes?" I whisper, willing him to go on.

"I'm...not really sure how to say this, because under normal circumstances I would just ask you out for dinner, but I'm not quite back up to those standards yet." My heart skips a beat at his implication that he wants the same thing that I do. But I can see that he is self-conscious about still having to rely on help in his day-to-day life. If only he knew that I have my own insecurities to worry about.

"Gabi, I know we haven't known each other for very long, but...I think I'm falling in love with you." His tone is soft and sincere, and I feel as though I might cry. I am completely speechless until I realise that Troy is looking at me, waiting for me to say something. And then it is easy. "Me too," I breathe out.

Troy smiles softly, and then leans in and searches my eyes. I know what he is asking and I simply nod my head. And in a matter of seconds, he closes the gap between us and gently captures my lips with his own. It is a moment I will never forget, and when we pull away he reaches up to stroke a strand of my hair away from my face.

Then I wonder what my face must look like. I am happy, stunned and scared all at the same time. Apparently Troy is able to spot the element of fear in me. "Hey, what is it?" he asks, a concerned look appearing on his own features. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a second. When I open them, I decide that I want to tell him what I am thinking.

"Troy, I have to tell you something," I say shakily. "I've never had a boyfriend. I've never been on a date; I...hadn't even kissed anyone before now." I close my eyes again, embarrassment coming over me. But immediately I feel Troy's hands gently cupping my face, and when I open my eyes once again I see that he is looking at me tenderly. "It's okay," he reassures me, and I am encouraged to continue.

"I just didn't want to waste my first kiss if it wasn't going to mean something. I was waiting for the right person," I tell him honestly. Troy smiles at that.

"And have you found him?" he asks, a twinkle in his eye. I smile up at him and nod. Because I know that yes, I have.

Troy places a kiss on my forehead, and I lean into him, enjoying the comfort and the closeness. "Don't worry about anything," he tells me. "We'll take this as slow as you want to. And not just because that's the only speed I can walk at right now." Despite the sincerity of the moment, I let out a giggle at his little joke.

"Thank you," I reply gratefully. But suddenly in the wake of this conversation, any fears I had have melted away, and I don't want to wait to kiss him again. So this time it is me who fills the space between us by softly pressing my lips to his. It doesn't take Troy long to respond, and our second kiss is just as amazing as the first.

A few moments after pulling away, we realise that we are being watched. Turning our heads towards the door of the living room, we look up to see that Jack and Lucille are watching us quietly. Jack smiles at the both of us and walks away, obviously deciding not to make us feel awkward.

Lucille, however, is beaming down at us and hasn't moved yet. Then she says something that completely throws me. "I was wondering when you two were going to get together!" It seems she saw this coming even before we did. Troy and I are still staring at her, open-mouthed at her reaction. With a grin, she slowly walks away, leaving the two of us alone again.

"I'm glad I waited for the right person," I say as I rest my forehead against his. Troy smiles back at me. "And I'm glad it was you who saved me that night."

I could tell him yet again that what I did surely wasn't that special; after all, the doctors are the ones who really saved his life. But right now that isn't the focus. Right now, we are just thankful that we have come to know each other.

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	7. Recovery

**Hello all! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter :) Thanks for reading, following, favouriting...and reviewing of course! Here is chapter seven for you.**

A few weeks later Troy reaches his last physiotherapy session. It is a Saturday, so I offer to drive us both to the hospital. Jack and Lucille decide to let Troy and I do this alone together, opting instead to stay at home and await our return. He is now almost fully recovered, and it has been over a month since the attack. In the time since we admitted our feelings for one another, we have grown even closer, spending as much time together as possible.

We link arms as we walk into the hospital, finding the necessary department with a practised ease. Troy is quiet, and I can tell that he is looking forward to getting this last session over and done with. As we wait for him to be called in by Adam, I squeeze his hand in support, and he looks up at me and smiles softly.

An hour later, we are both grinning broadly as we get ready to leave. "Well Troy, it looks like I won't be seeing you here again. You've done extremely well," says Adam, who is also grinning. I stand back and watch as Troy shakes the older man's hand, feeling proud of him and his achievements. "Thanks for all your help," Troy replies sincerely. Then we both say goodbye, and take a slow walk down to the ground floor.

Suddenly feeling the need to let Troy know just how wonderful he is, I lean towards him - our hands still linked - and kiss him softly on the cheek. Then I watch for his reaction out of the corner of my eye as I continue walking through the hospital with him. "What was that for?" he asks and I look at him again. His expression is a mixture of amusement and wonder.

Now we are standing still in the middle of the corridor. "There are a few reasons," I reply with a cheeky smile and he chuckles lightly. "Oh?" he says questioningly in a tone of voice that makes me want to giggle.

"Well, it's just...watching you cope with everything," I tell him. "You're so brave, and even when something gets you down, you don't get angry. Even though you have every right to be. I just wanted to let you know that I think you're...well, I think you're amazing, and I'm really proud of you." I just had to say it, even though part of me wonders whether it sounds odd to be declaring pride for someone you have only been dating for a few weeks.

But Troy isn't fazed by my random moment. "I really love you, do you know that?" he says. His statement is so heartfelt, so sure, that now I am close to tears. Even though we told each other that we were falling in love when we got together, this is the first time one of us has actually said those three words directly. "I really love you, too," I reply, and we lean in for a kiss.

"I'm not brave, though," he adds when we have pulled away. "Far from it. And when no one's around, I _do _feel angry – I just can't believe that guy got away with what he did." I reach up to run a hand through Troy's hair, then link our hands together as we start walking again. "I know. But the police _will _find him, we can't give up yet," I tell him. I don't want to believe that this man will never be caught. "And no matter what you think, in my eyes you are the bravest person I know." Troy places a kiss on my hand just as we reach the exit. As we walk outside we are hit by the cold breeze. "Thank you," he whispers.

_**.HSM.**_

A few days later it is time for Troy to move back into his flat. I drive him there, given that his car has been parked in his building's garage since the attack. When we leave his parents' house, we bid them goodbye with promises to come to them for lunch the following week.

On the Friday evening I am invited to Troy's for dinner, along with my friends and his. Troy invites Chad and his wife Taylor, who I met a couple of weeks ago and liked instantly. And I bring Erin and Kelly, who met Troy a few days after we got together. When my friends and I arrive, Chad and Taylor are already there, and Troy answers the door wearing an apron. It never occurred to me that he was actually going to cook. "Gabi, you never told us your boyfriend could cook!" exclaims Kelly, who is obviously impressed. Troy greets me with a kiss on the cheek, and chuckles at our reactions to his attire. "Hey," he says softly to me.

"Hey you," I reply. Then I turn to Kelly. "Actually _I_ didn't know, either. Troy, why didn't you tell me you could cook?" He winks at me instead of answering, and steps aside to let us in. As we all take seats in the lounge with Taylor and Chad, Taylor grins at us. "Back in our school days we had a friend called Zeke who could cook up a storm. He gave Troy and Chad a few pointers in the kitchen. Not that Chad ever took them on board!"

"Hey!" says Chad in his defence. I laugh at their banter and decide to introduce everyone who hasn't met before. "Erin, Kelly, this is Chad and his wife Taylor." My flatmates greet the couple warmly, and it soon becomes clear that everyone is going to get on well, to my relief. Erin is always polite, but Kelly can be a little too outspoken sometimes. Troy takes off his apron and sits down next to me. "Dinner won't be long now," he announces.

"Hey Troy, why did you have to make me look bad by turning into a chef for the night?" Chad asks, trying his hardest to look put out. We all erupt into giggles, and Troy smirks at his friend. "I suppose you don't want any food then?" is his response. We all watch as Chad quickly backtracks, and Taylor rolls her eyes. "No no no, I didn't say that!"

Ten minutes later we are all eating Troy's home-made lasagne, which everyone agrees is amazing. The conversation is still flowing easily, until an unpleasant subject comes up. "So, have you heard anything from Tom and Matt?" asks Taylor, and suddenly Troy tenses up at the mention of his 'friends' who left him on that night out. Chad's face has also changed, and now he looks angry. I know by now that there are several factors involved as to why this is a sensitive subject. Not only did Tom and Matt desert Troy that night; they also failed to visit him after the attack or show him any support whatsoever. But according to Troy, the bright side is that now he knows who his real friends are. That's just one of the things that I love about him: he can always find something to smile about, somehow.

Now, though, he is still frowning in answer to Taylor's question. "Absolutely nothing," he replies, then looks away and takes another bite of his food, signalling that he doesn't want to continue discussing the topic. Chad looks as though he wants to add something, but obviously thinks better of it and closes his mouth again. I have already briefed Erin and Kelly about Tom and Matt; and as I glance over at them I see that they look a little anxious. Clearly this has reminded them yet again of their own disappearing acts. The difference is that deep down, I _know _that the two of them simply weren't thinking straight that night. And they have proved plenty of times that when I really need them, they'll be there in a heartbeat.

Our discussions are just getting back onto happier notes when the phone begins to ring. Troy goes to answer it, and as I watch him walk over to the other side of the room I can't help but marvel at how quickly and easily he moves now. I am convinced that the rate of his recovery is down to his inner strength and determination – something that he still claims he doesn't possess. But I know differently.

He answers the call, and is then silent for a few minutes as he listens to what the person on the other end has to say. When he hangs up, he turns to look at me, and I can't read the expression on his face. Then he says calmly, "they've caught him."

I don't know about anybody else in the room, but I instantly know what Troy is referring to. Or should I say, _who_. It's the man who viciously left him for dead.

**Next chapter: Troy and Gabriella support each other through what could be a traumatic experience for both of them. Please keep letting me know what you think by clicking on that very inviting Review button below...haha! ;)**


	8. Suspect

**Here is chapter eight for you :) A longer chapter, as quite a lot goes on in this one. So...enjoy!**

I walk over to Troy, waiting to hear more. He takes a deep breath, then takes hold of my hand before speaking. "The police are saying that his mother turned him in. They have enough reason beyond that to charge him, but they still need a formal identification." I nod wordlessly, already certain that I am going to be there by his side when this happens. I also know that as a key witness, my presence will probably be required anyway.

We both turn towards the others and see that Erin and Kelly have stood up from their seats. "Maybe we should leave you to talk things over?" says Erin. I smile at her, knowing that she has sensed that Troy and I need to be alone. "Alright, but why don't you take my car," I reply. They look at me in confusion until Troy adds kindly, "It's okay, go ahead. I'll drive Gabi home later." Erin nods and smiles at him, and Kelly clears her throat. "Thanks for a lovely dinner," she says, and I can tell she means it. I hand Erin my keys, say goodbye, and watch as they leave Troy's flat.

Then Taylor and Chad walk over to us. "We'll make a move too. Let us know if you need anything, both of you," says Taylor with a small smile. Chad nods in agreement with his wife and pats Troy lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah, you know where we are if you need us," he states simply. Both Troy and I smile back at them for their support. "Thanks," he replies. "Good night."

And then it is just the two of us, alone with so many thoughts swirling around inside our heads. Troy leads me to the sofa and we sit close together, deep in thought. "So," I say eventually. "Tomorrow?" Troy knows what I am talking about and nods. I still can't work out what he is thinking. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

"Are you okay?" I ask gently, looking into his eyes. For a moment I can see that Troy is trying to be brave in front of me, but when he catches my eye he begins to waver. "Honestly, I don't know right now," he answers in a whisper. "You?"

I consider his question. I haven't really thought about how I'm feeling right now. "I'm fine," I reply, even though I might not be. But the last thing Troy needs at the moment is for _me _to have a nervous break-down. So I smile reassuringly at him. "Hey, just remember you're not alone in this," I add. "I'm going to be there with you." Troy smiles back at me, looking a little brighter. "I know," he says, pulling me into a hug. "I know."

_**.HSM.**_

The following day I surprise myself by being calm and collected when I leave to pick Troy up. I have insisted on being the driver for the day, knowing that things might become distressing for him at the police station. We have no idea what to expect or how this 'formal identification' will work, having never been in a situation like this before - either of us.

I clutch Troy's hand as we get out of the car and approach the station building. When we get inside, we see a man waiting at the main desk, who looks up to greet us immediately with a kind smile. "Hello, Troy," he says, coming over to shake his hand. I then realise that as a PCSO, Troy must know some of the officers here quite well. "Hi Mike," he replies. "This is Gabriella Montez."

'Mike' looks at me. "Ah, you are the eyewitness?" he asks me. I nod, thinking that perhaps it may not be appropriate to say anything else – such as the fact that I am now not only the main witness of Troy's attack; but am also his girlfriend. But he hasn't batted an eyelid so far, despite seeing the two of us come in together, and hearing Troy make it obvious that we know each other. "I'm Chief Constable Michael Morris," the man says, and he goes to shake my hand as well.

"Okay, we have been questioning the suspect all night, but before I go into all of the details, we are going to start with an identity parade – which is actually going to be much simpler with the both of you here." The constable leads us out of the room, where another officer is waiting for us. "This is PC Allen, he will look after you during this process." And with that, he leaves us to it. PC Allen greets us politely before explaining what is about to happen. Then he leads us to the door of another room and gives us a few minutes to prepare, while he goes inside himself.

Troy takes my hand again and it is then that I realise I am shaking. Somewhere in that room is the man who left Troy to die. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" asks Troy, and I shake my head to snap myself out of my trance. He must have noticed my anxiety. I look up at him and try to put on a brave face, but seeing those eyes of his only reminds me of how close he came to losing his life. Then I remind myself of something else: I am doing this for him. I promised myself even before I fell for him that I would do anything I could to get his attacker locked up. I _can_ do this. Slowly, I nod, and before anything else can be said, we are led into the room.

Behind a screen which, we are told, does not reveal either of us to the suspect; we see a row of men standing side by side. Neither I or Troy are looking at each other; our eyes are focused on the sight in front of us. As I scan each person one by one, suddenly my eyes are fixed upon the man standing on the far right. His expression is blank, revealing nothing. But he's the one. The events of that night flood back into my mind all at once, and it hurts to look at the lack of remorse on the man's face.

I don't need to look anymore. I avert my eyes quickly and look at the officer. "Number four. That's him." As I say this, Troy's voice is also saying something: "Number four." We have picked out the same man at the exact same time. PC Allen takes in our observations with a simple nod and promptly leads us out of the room, and into another, where he tells us the Chief Constable will be with us again soon.

Troy and I sit down, and I immediately reach for his hand, needing the comfort. I don't care if it becomes obvious that we are a couple now; the police must know that we couldn't have possibly _planned_ to identify the suspect as we did: at the very same moment. "How are you doing?" I ask him, and he puts an arm around me.

"I'm alright. Are you?" he replies, and this is when I crack. I'm actually crying now. Silent tears, but still. "Hey, come here," Troy whispers, and I lean into him, cursing myself for breaking down like this. "I'm sorry," I manage to utter after a few minutes. "I'm supposed to be supporting you. I'm not doing very well with that, am I?"

"Don't be daft," he says firmly, still holding me. "That's _all_ you've done since you met me – support me." I look up at him and see that his face is serious. "Sorry," I tell him when I have calmed down. "It was just...seeing his face again. It was horrific, what he did to you..." I trail off, feeling stupid. He really doesn't need me telling him that; as if he doesn't already know it himself. But Troy doesn't seem to care. He places a kiss on my forehead.

"For a minute it was like it was happening all over again. I was watching and I couldn't do anything, I couldn't help you..." He shushes me again; how is it that he always knows what to say? "But you _did _help me, Gabi. You were the only one who didn't leave me."

I can't argue with that, because it's true. I'll never understand what could have possessed all those others to walk away without a thought. A thought for this kind, brave and gentle man who is sitting here, holding me as though _I _am the one who went through all that. "When I saw the attack, I knew I would never be able to forget it. Even if I had never seen you again. But I just _had _to see you again, and now...now thinking about what happened affects me so much more, because I don't know what I would do without you."

Troy carefully pulls me even closer to him, if that is even possible. He doesn't say: 'you'll never have to find out', because we both know more than anyone that lives can be risked or lost in the space of a few minutes. Nobody can really promise never to leave someone they love – it won't always be up to them. So instead, Troy tells me softly, "I don't know what I'd do without you, either."

We are pulled out of our moment when the door opens, and in walks the constable. Troy and I sit up, but keep hold of each other's hands. "Hello again," he addresses me kindly. "Alright, Troy?" Troy gives a nod and smiles back at the man. Then he seems to notice our linked hands, and looks at us both.

"I had a feeling that you two were better acquainted than just 'victim and witness'," he says with an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. Troy takes a breath to explain our story, but Chief Constable Morris beats him to it. "There's no need to explain yourselves," he says. "PC Allen just informed me that the both of you identified the same suspect in the same moment. We're already certain that we have our man; and it's perfectly clear that neither of you would have been able to second guess who the other was going to choose before you told us. Besides all of that, Troy, when we questioned you the day after you regained consciousness, your description of the attacker matched Gabriella's regardless." I let out a breath in relief. That was what concerned me; the possibility that the police might let our relationship affect the case.

As the constable continues talking, we discover that the 'suspect', as he is known for now, is named Carl Brooks. He is denying all allegations, and yet his mother claims that he has confessed all to her. As well as that, she told the police that she found blood on her son's clothes, but thought nothing sinister of it until she found out exactly where he had been that night and confronted him. Brooks is already known by police; and apparently this is why his mother became instantly suspicious after learning of his whereabouts, and linking it with Troy's attack. As far as I am concerned, this man's mother is one brave, decent woman for having the guts to call the police.

We are told that Brooks will be charged this afternoon, and then it is finally time for us to leave. Even though I know that this is still far from over; I am calm once again as Troy and I walk outside. Because as hard as that was; when I look into Troy's eyes I remember just why I am doing this. To get justice for the man I have fallen in love with.

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	9. Date

**Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews :) A happier chapter this time round, hope you like it. **

As the weeks slip by, Troy and I manage to stay upbeat in spite of what lies ahead of us. Having received a call a few days after our visit to the police station, we now know that Brooks, Troy's attacker, is being remanded in custody while awaiting a trial date. And even though we also have to wait, we refuse to let this dominate our thoughts. Instead, as I arrive at Troy's flat after work one day, the first thing he says to me is, "Gabriella Montez, will you go out with me?"

He presses a soft kiss on my cheek to greet me properly, and looks perfectly fine. I feel certain that he is not in a state of confusion. So I raise my eyebrows at him, trying to look offended. "Erm, can I just ask what you considered us to be doing before, if we weren't already 'going out'?" I reply. Troy chuckles and takes my hand in his, sitting me down so that he can explain himself a bit better. "Okay, let me rephrase that question. Will you go out on a _date _with me?"

I look up at him in surprise. Then I can feel my face cracking into a smile as I take in what he has just asked me. "A real date?" I say, still grinning like an idiot. Until I met Troy, being asked out was something I could only try and imagine. But when I fell in love, suddenly the idea of the actual date became irrelevant. I realised that it's about the person you're with, not getting all dressed up and being taken out for dinner. So now I am glad that nobody else ever asked me - it makes this moment all the more special. Yes, I may have just stated that a date is not as important as I thought; but I have still been waiting to go on one my whole life.

Troy is smiling back at me. "Yeah, a real date," he replies. "I know you've never been on one, so I wanted to ask you properly - traditionally." I am still looking at him, his soft eyes revealing the sincerity of his gesture. "I'd love to, Troy. Thank you. Although, you have to admit, traditional hasn't exactly been our angle so far, has it?" I joke, making him laugh again.

"You could say that," he answers. "Not that we had much of a choice in the matter – I mean, I was unconscious when you first met me!" I smile softly, knowing that Troy is trying to make light of the situation. Those first few days of knowing him actually seem like a world away now, in that he is fully healed from the damage that was dealt to him that night. But I will never regret staying with him. I will never regret going back to the hospital; and I will never regret sticking around to get to know him. All of those things led us to the here and now. And I wouldn't swap any of it for the concept of tradition.

"I know I was fixated on the fact that I had never had a boyfriend; never had a date before you but...I want you to know that it doesn't matter to me, not anymore," I tell him. "I don't want you to feel like you have to take me somewhere posh and expensive. Because honestly, we could go anywhere, just the two of us, and I'd be happy." Troy grins, and just as I am wondering whether that was in fact what he had in store for me in the first place; he places a finger to my lips. I decide to just listen, having said all I needed to.

"So, I'll pick you up on Friday at 8 o'clock?" is all he has to say. There is a mysterious look in his eyes. I laugh lightly and nod my head, wondering just what he is up to.

_**.HSM.**_

"And you have no idea where he's taking you?" Erin is asking me as I am getting ready on the Friday evening.

"Not a clue," I reply as I finish doing my hair. It doesn't really bother me that I don't know what Troy is planning for tonight. It just makes me happy to know that in taking me out on our first real date, hopefully Troy has been able to stop thinking of what's to come. At least for one night.

"And that doesn't bother you?" Kelly chips in, bringing me out of my thoughts. "No. Why should it?" I say, actually curious as to what my friends are thinking now.

"Well, men don't tend to be experts on what we consider to be a date," she tells me.

"Yeah," adds Erin. "When Nick first asked me out, he took me to watch a rugby match in the pub! I don't even understand rugby, let alone does it interest me – and it never will."

I laugh; I have heard this story regarding her 'useless' boyfriend many times before. "I get what you're trying to say, you two. But Troy didn't just ask me out. He wanted to take me on a proper date; he even asked me traditionally. I did tell him, though, that I don't care where we go or what we do on this date."

Kelly's mouth is hanging open. "Gabi, are you mad? You're saying that he actually _wants_ to be romantic and you gave him an excuse not to be?"

I look at the both of them in turn, and speak slowly and softly. "He doesn't _need _to do all those things to be romantic. Look, I used to think that was what I wanted, to be taken out for an expensive dinner; to be bought romantic presents. But then I met Troy. I knew some of the most important things about him before I had even met him properly. Think about everything he's been through. I feel lucky enough that he's here, and that I've fallen for him. _And_ that he actually loves me too."

When I finish my little speech, I see that Erin and Kelly are silent. I wonder if I got a bit carried away in the moment, and whether I sounded too cheesy. But suddenly they both reach over to hug me; and there we are having a random group hug, all three of us.

"Have fun tonight, Gabs," is their response and in the next moment the doorbell rings. Luckily I am ready and when I open the door to find Troy waiting for me, I smile brightly, remembering what I have just told my friends.

_**.HSM.**_

Troy has driven us to an area that I can only distinguish as the middle of nowhere. There are no street lamps around, so as we get out of the car, I have to rely on holding onto him for support.

"Where exactly are we?" I say as he leads me along a narrow pathway. As we walk I notice some shop lights in the distance, giving us some way of navigating ourselves. Troy chuckles and puts an arm around me; I have become used to this as his trademark reaction to my blunt questions.

"Wait and see," he replies, and I do. For just a few seconds later he brings me to a stop, and gently turns me to the left, so that I am facing what appears to be a park. And as we walk closer to it, what I see next makes me lose the ability to speak for a moment.

There is a blanket set up on the grass, along with a picnic basket. And in the centre sit two small tea light candles, which give just enough light for us to see each other in our otherwise dark surroundings. It is simple, but perfect. I fight off the urge to cry.

"You...you did this? For me?" I stutter, looking at Troy. He smiles modestly at me.

"Well, I may have had a little help from Chad. After all, I couldn't have lit the candles myself and then left them while I came to get you," he explains. I laugh at this analogy. "No, that would have been disastrous!"

"So," he says, offering me his hand to help me sit down comfortably on the blanket. "Shall we?" He sits himself down, and I nod in response to his question, then watch in anticipation as he opens the basket. Then he pauses. "Do you want to do the honours?" is his next question.

Troy is gesturing towards the basket as if he can't wait for me to look inside, and I lean over, wondering what to expect.

The one thing I don't expect is for my hand to fall upon what feels like paper. And as I use my other hand to reach into the basket and pull something out, I realise what the material is. It is newspaper. I turn back to stare at Troy, searching for hints as to what this is all about. But he merely shrugs his shoulders, as if even he has no clue. I feel as though everything around me is a piece of a puzzle, and that Troy is just waiting for the penny to drop.

So I slowly unwrap the package. As I reach a second and third layer of yet more newspaper, a very familiar scent hits the air, and I realise that whatever is inside is very hot, so it is definitely food. When I finally see what it is, a smile forms on my lips. It's my favourite meal. Fish and chips.

"I thought there should be _something_ traditional about our first date," Troy says softly and I laugh. _Traditional_ fish and chips; I have never eaten them this way before. He leans over to the picnic basket and pulls out another, identical package for himself. "That was another reason why I needed Chad's help. I asked him to pick up our food so that when we got here, it would still be hot."

I am really smiling now, because a few things have just struck me. First is the fact that he has gone to all this effort for me. He really listened when I insisted that this didn't need to be a 'fancy' date. And he remembered what my favourite food is. To me that says more than an expensive restaurant ever would.

"Thank you," I tell him, and he smiles back at me as we start to eat. "Do you want to know something?" I ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Troy looks up, intrigued.

"When I was little, I used to go to the beach with my family every weekend in the summer. And I'll always remember this one day, as we were walking along the pier. I saw this elderly couple sitting on a bench, eating fish and chips wrapped in newspaper. They were sharing it together, and they were holding hands. It sounds silly I know, but I never forgot about it, and I remember thinking that one day, I wanted that. To grow old with someone and still be so in love, I mean."

I take a bite of my food and look up at Troy again. Maybe that was too cheesy, and too random of me, I think to myself. And yet he is smiling softly. He moves closer to me, and instead of saying anything, he kisses me. Perhaps he understands me better than I thought.

When we have finished eating, Troy puts the empty newspaper wrappings back in the basket, and for a while we just sit and talk. Then, suddenly, he looks at his watch. Blowing out the candles, he reaches for my hand and says, "come on."

He walks me across the grass until we reach a bench that is positioned off to the side of the park. Then, as we sit down, he speaks again, still holding my hand. "I like to come here to think sometimes. Because I'm a PCSO, I do a lot of late shifts, and I would always end up here after finishing work." I listen quietly, wondering if he is missing his job. He is due to go back soon; having been told not to rush his return given the circumstances.

"But the best part about coming here," Troy adds, "is this." He points straight ahead, and I gasp at the pure beauty of the sight before us. The sun is setting, and I have never seen it this closely before. Neither did I realise it was quite this late already. But then I think, what does it matter?

It is a calming experience, watching this view together. And as I lean my head on Troy's shoulder, two more things enter my mind. One is that I know we can get through the tough times that are ahead. And the other is a much fonder thought. I know just who I want to grow old with.

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	10. Call

**Here is chapter ten! A huge thank you to my regular reviewers for continuing to follow this story :) Also, hello to all who have just recently discovered it and have since added it to their favourites. Please do let me know what you think so far! Anyway, enjoy :)**

After watching the sunset, I call my friends to let them know what I am doing. Because as they keep reminding me since the night they abandoned me; they _do _care. And I do believe them, given how supportive they have been since Troy and I became an item.

And on the night of our first official date, I stay the night at Troy's for the very first time. I don't regret the decision for even one moment. However, we are woken earlier than we had hoped when the phone starts to ring. With his arms still wrapped around me as we begin to stir, I can tell that Troy has suddenly become tense in the last few seconds. I know instantly that this is because of who could be calling. He is anxious at the possibility that this is the call to tell him that a court date has been set. Even though he doesn't admit his worries to me, I sit up as he goes to answer the call and tell him, "Hey, it's going to be fine, okay?" He nods and smiles fondly at me.

Half a minute later I hear a loud sigh as he acknowledges the caller, and it quickly becomes clear to me that it is not _that _phone call. I slowly make my way into the lounge, curious as to who else would ring Troy this early on a Saturday morning. As I listen in, I chuckle softly when I hear who he is talking to. "Yeah, Chad, it turned out great. Yes, alright, I owe you one...Look, thanks for your help setting everything up last night, but can I just ask you one thing?" Troy pauses for a moment, before continuing. "Do you know what time it is?" Another pause. "Exactly, so...yeah, okay...I'm hanging up now...right. Yeah, thanks again, Chad. Bye."

Troy hangs up the phone, then turns to me and rolls his eyes. I laugh when I see the clock and realise that it is only half past eight in the morning. Being up this early certainly didn't seem to be a quality of Chad's. "So, what was that about?" I say with a smile. Troy walks over to me, trying to wake himself up properly. Then he wraps his arms around me from behind as he speaks.

"He said that Taylor made him get up early to go to the supermarket, so he wanted to call and see how our date went last night. He also made sure to remind me several times that he helped me out." I laugh again, and now Troy also cracks a smile. "Well," I reply. "I think we can forgive him just this once. It was an amazing date, after all."

"A very good point," he says. As we sit down, I notice that he is much more relaxed now. He is probably grateful that it _was _Chad on the phone, deep down. I don't know if he is ready to face Brooks yet, much less stand up in court. And I don't know if I'm ready either. "Troy," I say, reaching over for his hand. He looks up at me expectantly.

"I know you're worrying because any time soon there's going to be a phone call about the trial. I know you don't want to think about it; because I don't want to either. But we have to. I _don't _know yet how we are going to do it, but we _will _get through it. Me and you, together. I hope you know that." My eyes never leave his throughout my little speech, and I know that he has been listening intently when I feel him gently squeeze my hand.

"I know. I do know that," Troy replies, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "You're right - I _am _worrying about it. It's the idea of seeing _his_ face again, and it doesn't even seem like he cares about what he did. But at the end of the day, I know we'll be alright. We can face this together." He is smiling now; a sign that he really means what he is telling me.

I pull him towards me for a hug. It is one of those hugs that make neither of us want to pull away. I want to stay like this forever. Unfortunately, my brain has just registered something, and I let out a groan. I am supposed to be having lunch with my mum today. Not that I don't want to go; we are very close. But I had forgotten about it until now, and had only prepared myself for a day involving minimal effort.

Troy pulls back from our hug when he hears my sound of annoyance. "What's wrong?" he asks. With a sigh, I explain that I am due at my mother's house at lunchtime, and suddenly I have a brainwave. "You don't fancy coming with me, do you? I've told her all about you, but I haven't seen her in about a month because she lives on the other side of London."

When I last saw her, Troy and I hadn't been together for very long and he was still undergoing physio, so it hadn't been an appropriate time for me to bring him to meet her. The reason it is just my mother is because my father passed way when I was very young. I have already told Troy all about it. Well, as much as I can remember; which is that he was very ill for a long, long time before he died. I _do_ remember him; but having only been about five at the time, I now credit my mother as a single parent in my upbringing.

I look up to face Troy again, realising that I have become lost in my own thoughts. He is smiling at me. "I'd love to come with you, yeah," he replies. "It's only fair of me; I mean, _my _mother introduced you to me, so it's about time I met yours," he jokes. Sometimes I forget these small facts – that I got to know Troy's parents before I got to know him. Then again, it often feels as though I've actually always known him.

_**.HSM.**_

A few hours later, I am driving the two of us up to my mum's house, having gone home to change and collect my car. I have already phoned ahead to let her know that Troy is coming: a piece of news she greets warmly along with the promise of extra food, and an extra place set at the table.

When we arrive, I park the car on the drive and take Troy's hand as we make our way up to the front door. My mother opens the door immediately, and I realise with a chuckle that she must have been watching for us out of the front window. "Gabriella!" she exclaims loudly, almost crushing me in a hug. Perhaps I should endeavour to visit her more often if I want to avoid these kinds of greetings. She pulls back to survey me, as if she hasn't seen me in years; instead of the four weeks that have actually passed. "Hi, Mum," I say in a bemused tone that makes her laugh as she lets Troy and I through the door.

"Well, it has been weeks and weeks since I last saw you – I was starting to forget what you looked like!" she jokes before turning her attention to Troy. She smiles welcomingly at him and then looks back at me. "So, are you going to introduce us, then?" asks my mum pointedly, and I smile at how eager she is. "Mum, this is Troy Bolton. Troy, this is my mother, Maria Montez."

I watch as Troy smiles brightly and then clears his throat. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mrs Montez." Mum is still smiling at him, but raises her eyebrows in good humour. "Now, you must call me Maria, Troy! It's nice to meet you too – emphasis on the 'finally'part, I should say," she tells him, picking up on his reference.

"Mum!" I exclaim in embarrassment. She laughs softly and pats my shoulder, her way of letting me know that she has finished teasing me now. I look over at Troy and roll my eyes as if to say, _"mothers..."_, at which he just grins in amusement. I suddenly have a flashback of his own mother, mischievously leaving the two of us alone in his hospital room shortly after we first met. It seems that all mothers have that indescribable knack with their children, no matter what their age.

Finally we sit down in the dining room, and it isn't long before Mum serves us our lunch. It is roast beef, which at times like these I almost revert to as being my favourite meal, rather than fish and chips. What I will say is that roast beef, when cooked by my mother, is my favourite home-cooked meal by far. Besides the fact that I miss her between these long periods of not being able to visit; _this _is another huge reason why I should come and see her more frequently.

"So, Troy," my mum begins in between mouthfuls. I can tell by her tone that she is about to embark on a serious conversation, and that the jokes are over and done with for today. "Gabi has told me all about you – and everything you've been through. It sounds like you've overcome so much," she says. I am immediately glad that I brought him here today, despite the humour at my expense. My mother somehow always manages to put people at ease when she meets them for the first time. And when I recall Troy's amused smile from earlier, and then see the look on his face now, I realise that she has achieved it again.

"Thank you. I suppose I have. I don't think I could have come this far without Gabi, though," Troy replies, squeezing my hand under the table. Mum looks truly delighted at his obvious devotion to me, as am I. I never thought anyone would feel like that about me, but for some reason, Troy does. It is moments like these that make me wonder what on earth I would do without him.

Lunch is finished considerably quickly, which isn't hard given the quality of the food. Troy finds it as easy to talk with my mum as I find it to talk with his, and when we eventually leave, we end up promising that he will come with me again on the next visit.

Troy and I are both smiling away on the drive home. It is only when I pull up to drop him off at his flat that his smile suddenly disappears. "Gab?" he says quietly, looking flustered. "This is going to sound...well, it's going to make me sound like a wimp. I just don't want to be on my own if it turns out there's a message on the answering machine about..." I cut him off and reach for his hand.

"Of course I'll come up there with you, Troy. I was hoping our day wasn't over yet, anyway," I tell him with a smile. "And by the way, you are _not_ a wimp. Come on." We get out of my car and make our way into his building, and as I keep hold of his hand I can tell that his anxiety has returned. I wish I knew how to take it away from him. But I can no more do that than I can rid myself of my own anxieties about what is coming. The trial. Giving evidence. Seeing _that _man again.

Troy looks incredibly relieved when we enter his flat to find that there have been no calls whatsoever. But just as we sit down to gather our thoughts, there it is. The phone is ringing _now_. I know it could easily not be the call we are expecting. But as Troy and I look at each other apprehensively, all I can think is that this is it.

**Mini-cliffhanger time! Sorry lol ;) **

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	11. Shocks

**Hey readers! Sooo, here is chapter eleven...read and enjoy :)**

I watch nervously as Troy takes the call. I can't read the expression on his face, and his answers are simple and one-worded. For a few moments he turns away, so that I can't see his face. I wonder if it is because he doesn't want me to watch him break down. Finally, after another minute or so, he hangs up and turns around slowly. He walks over to me and sits down in his original spot on the sofa. Before he can say anything, I instinctively wrap my arms around him - even though I have a feeling that in a few minutes' time, I will also need that comfort.

"Next year. April next year," is all he says. I don't know how I feel about this. On the one hand, we have nine months to prepare for the trial. On the other – we have to _wait _nine months for all of this to be over. To get on with our lives and get over what happened that night. It may be nine more months before Troy can really put the attack behind him. I try to summon up a response, but can think of nothing. Nothing that will be of any comfort right now; for I know that as much as he has been dreading this trial, he also wants it to be over.

So we just sit there, together; me holding him and him holding me. I don't know how much time passes before I make myself pull away, causing Troy to look up at me, his eyes looking lost. "It'll be okay," I say softly. "It will." I don't know whether either of us truly believe that yet, but Troy nods his agreement even so.

"Come on," I add then, refusing to let us mope about this. "Let's do something." Troy manages a smile, despite himself.

"Do something?" he asks curiously, still smiling at my randomness. Seeing that smile of his return encourages me to continue, and now I am smiling too.

"Something to take our minds off all this. At least for a little while. Hey, what are your parents up to tonight?" I ask, remembering that it has been a week since I saw them last.

"Not much, I shouldn't have thought," Troy replies. He looks surprised. "You want to spend a Saturday night with my mum and dad?" is his next comment. I smile softly at him and reach for both of his hands.

"Well, yes. Only if you want to, obviously. Troy, when we were all at the hospital, waiting for you to wake up...I was desperate to stick around, even though you had never laid eyes on me before. And I felt awkward, like I was intruding...just as anyone else would feel I suppose. But your parents were so kind to me. Even though they were in pieces over what had happened to you, they still managed to make me feel welcome when I wanted to stay. They even put themselves out to make sure I got home safely that night. They're just...remarkable people," I tell him. "Much like their son." I know that once again, I have been rambling; but I need him to know all this.

Troy is looking at me as though he doesn't know what to say. Then, in the next second, he is leaning closer to me. He wraps me in a hug and presses a kiss in my hair. "They think the world of you, too," he replies tenderly. "And so do I. You know I love you, don't you Gabi?" I pull back suddenly, wanting him to see my face as I give him my answer. "Of course I know that, Troy," I say firmly.

"I just needed to make sure you know. Especially with everything that's ahead of us. I know this is going to be hard for you too," he tells me.

"I'm not going anywhere, so don't you even think it," I reply seriously, placing my hands either side of his face. "And I love you too. So, shall we go and surprise your mum and dad?"

"Sounds like a plan," says Troy, who now puts his own hands upon my cheeks and strokes them softly. Then he gives me a quick, soft kiss on the lips, before taking my hand and leading me outside, back to my car.

_**.HSM.**_

"Gabriella! What a nice surprise," is how Lucille greets us as she opens the door. She reaches out to hug me, then ushers us inside. Behind me, Troy lets out a little cough, and both Lucille and I turn to look at him. He is trying to look hurt and offended, but I can tell that really, he is loving how close I am to his mum.

"Is it not nice to see me too, then?" he exclaims, the twinkle in his eye now evident. Lucille knows immediately that he is joking, and waves her hand at him dismissively. "Ah well, I only saw _you_ two days ago. But you haven't brought this young lady to see us since last week!" I laugh at her humour, and Troy simply rolls his eyes as we walk into the living room. Jack is sitting in the chair, watching something on the television. But when he sees us he quickly turns it off.

"Gabriella! How are you?" he says with a warm smile. Again, Troy looks unimpressed. Lucille and I stifle another giggle.

"Am I _going_ to get a hello at some point?" he asks, shaking his head. Jack obviously doesn't get the joke, and neither does he seem to notice his wife and I laughing. With a confused expression on his face, he obliges to Troy's request. "Hello, Troy."

Finally we all sit down to chat, and our discussion turns to the recent phone call about the trial. Jack and Lucille are as supportive as I expected them to be, telling both of us that they will be there with us through everything. They can see that Troy is anxious about it, and I stay quiet about my own feelings for the time being, knowing that he needs his parents to listen to him.

We end up staying for dinner, and by the end of the evening we have been thoroughly cheered up. So when I drop Troy back to his flat and then head home myself, I am reassured that he is okay. That's just how _I_ feel right now: okay. Somehow I know that if I was dealing with this trial without him, I probably wouldn't be okay. I would be doing nothing except reliving the memories of the attack, of what Troy went through. But being with him makes it all bearable. I only have to look at him to be reminded that he is still here; he survived the horror of that night.

And that's what I tell myself as I drift off to sleep, exhausted from our busy day.

_**.HSM.**_

When I get to Troy's the next day, I practically jump out of my car, which feels as hot as an oven. Summer has arrived so quickly; but it is only today that I can really say I have felt the effects of it. This must be the hottest day of the year. The heat slows me down and I am relieved by the time I finally reach Troy's flat. And when he lets me in, I am even more relieved to find that he has the air conditioning going full blast.

"Thank God!" I say, brushing my hair away from my face. "It's boiling out there." Troy smiles and gets me some water, which does it's job in cooling me down. I am about to ask him what he wants to do today, when he starts speaking himself.

"I just had a very surreal phone call," he begins. "Literally five minutes before you got here. It was the mother of my attacker." I am gob-smacked. All I can do is stand there, open-mouthed, waiting for Troy to tell me more.

"She said she looked me up in the phone book! I don't think I spoke a word for the first few minutes of the call, I was so shocked. She started telling me how she first heard about me, and the attack, on the news. And you as well," he is saying.

"We were on the news? I mean, our names and everything?" I ask incredulously. Although I shouldn't be surprised. How else was anybody ever going to report information if the attack wasn't on the news? I am just wondering how I missed these details. Then I realise that of course, I was spending time with Troy instead. "That's what I thought!" he replies. "Silly really. You just never expect yourself to be headline news."

Another good point, I muse silently. "Anyway, then she told me how sorry she was for what her son did," he continues. "She was in tears at one point, actually. In the end I thanked her for reporting him, and for phoning. I told her that despite what happened, I'm happy. I told her about you. When I said your name, she realised who you were, because as I said, your name was apparently mentioned on the news. But she seemed to find it sweet and wished us all the best."

As Troy finishes his story, I have so many thoughts buzzing away in my mind. "That was kind of her. I do have to wonder whether it would be seen as appropriate for her to ring you, though. At least at this stage, when she's going to be involved in the trial. Even considering the courageous thing she did; she is still Brooks' mother," I tell him. He nods and I see that this has also crossed his mind.

"I thought of that, too. But she was so genuine, I just didn't have the heart to say anything about it," Troy replies. I can see by the look on his face that this woman's phone call has had an effect on him. And I really believe that she is sincere, too. She has to be, given that she shopped her own son to the police for the benefit of justice.

So why do I suddenly feel as though something is about to happen? Something that is already making me increasingly uneasy.

**Sorry, I believe I just created another cliffhanger...lol ;) Next chapter will reveal all! **

**Please review, I am cooking up chapter twelve as we speak!**

**Thank you :) **


	12. Promises

**Thanks for the reviews! All I will say about this chapter is: brace yourselves. In other words, it's a bit of an emotional one! Here is chapter twelve...**

I puzzle over this uneasy feeling all day at work on Monday. It's like an instinct; I just _know_ that the next few months aren't going to be an easy wait. Teaching all day manages to distract me slightly from my worries. But at the end of the week the summer holidays will begin, and I won't be able to keep myself busy.

I go straight home when school finishes for the day, bringing with me a mountain of marking to do. I tell myself that I will work solidly for an hour while Erin and Kelly are still at work; and then I will call Troy. However, after about forty-five minutes I am interrupted by the doorbell. When I open the door I come face to face with a shell-shocked looking Troy. The look on his face scares me, and within seconds I have pulled him to me in a tight hug.

"Troy? What is it, what's wrong?" I ask quickly as I take him inside and into the living room.

He seems to have been in a daze, but now he snaps out of it and looks up at me. "Our relationship is going to be turned against us in court," he tells me. _What?_

"But...I don't understand," I croak out, confused. "When we were at the police station, they saw that we were genuine...The constable even reassured us after we identified Brooks."

Troy nods in understanding, but he still has the same look on his face. "I know. But it doesn't matter. My solicitor just called, and he got a call from the police this morning. Brooks found out from his mother that you and I are together, told his own solicitor, and now they're planning to use it in his defence case. That means they'll try and say that you're lying about something...I'm not really sure _what _they'll say yet, but..." I know what he is saying. I just can't believe it.

"Do you think...do you think that his mother called you to find out information, so she could relay it back to Brooks and his solicitor?" I ask, all at once losing more faith in humanity. Troy's eyes tell the same story. It is plain to see that he has been mulling this question over too. "It sounds like it," he says quietly. What I don't understand is how the police managed to find out about this. But right now that is irrelevant.

In my head, I can already imagine what I'm going to be accused of. The defence will say that I'm lying to protect Troy. They might try and say that he was the one who caused the fight; or that the attack was less violent that I make it out to be. Although quite how that last thought would make any sense I don't know. Troy nearly died. The attack couldn't have been more violent – and I can still picture every detail of it. The way he knocked Troy to the ground. The way he viciously kicked him, again and again.

I wish it was enough for people to know that I chose not to walk away that night, when at that point I had never even met Troy before. And whether or not I expected to see him again, I already knew I was going to testify when the time came. This problem would not exist if all the other runaway witnesses would come forward. But the fact that they haven't already, in all the time that has passed, tells me that I needn't hold my breath on that thought.

"So, the fact that they are going to bring this - our relationship – up in court might be enough to jeopardise everything?" I ask. It sounds to me like all that will need to be mentioned is the fact that Troy is dating the only witness; and the whole charge could be questioned.

Troy nods slowly. "Apparently yes, according to my solicitor," he replies. "I don't know what we're going to do. It's only thanks to Mike that we've been made aware of this." I think back to that day when we went to identify Troy's attacker, and recall that 'Mike' is the name of the Chief Constable. So, if it weren't for him, we may have just been ambushed with these unexpected accusations over our relationship at the trial.

"What else did your solicitor say?" I ask next. Though I'm not sure if I really want to know the answer. Troy seems caught in a daze once again. It almost looks as though he isn't going to respond, but he does. So softly that I have to strain to hear him.

"He said...he said that if we want to prevent this...if we want to do our level best to make sure that Brooks gets what he deserves...we would have to consider separating until after the trial."

I have never wanted to cry more in my entire life. The thought of not having Troy with me throughout the trial, of not being able to be there for him – it's more than I can cope with. I can't say anything; I can't speak. Troy seems to be able to find the words to continue. "That was his professional opinion, although he apologised for having to discuss my personal life. He said that if we have no contact before and during the trial, there will be less focus on the fact that we became an item after the attack; and it won't be as plausible for anyone to say that you are biased."

I can't take this anymore. The more I hear, the more tears I can feel coming. And suddenly I'm sobbing. All my previous efforts to be strong for Troy are crumbling right in front of him. I hurriedly wipe my eyes, clearing my vision in time to see the tears that are also on his face. He pulls me to him, unable to say anything else now. I am crying on his shoulder. Am I crying for us, or for justice? Because I don't think we can have both. Either we stay together and risk Brooks walking free; or we walk away from each other in the hope that he is locked up for his crime.

As if he can tell what I'm thinking about, Troy talks through his tears. "Hey, listen to me. We're not going to be split up, okay? I won't let that happen."

"Troy," I choke out, wishing it could be that simple. "You have no idea how much I want us to stay together. But just by being with you, I could be helping that man walk free..." The very idea of it sickens me. If he gets away with what he did to Troy because we ignore this warning, I'll never forgive myself. But Troy is shaking his head, as if he is convinced that we can find a way through this.

"We can't let him do this to us," he says. "His defence team are clutching at straws. Any jury in the world should see that. I mean, there's too much else going against him for this to..."

"I know, but you said it yourself, that doesn't matter," I interrupt. "They'll say things about us that will twist everything, and it might just be enough to plant seeds of doubt in people's minds. Even the evidence in our favour can't do anything to avoid that."

Troy looks defeated. He knows that I'm right. I wish I wasn't; I wish I could agree that everything will be fine. But I can't. And now I'm scared, because there's one thought going around my head that overpowers the rest. It has been with me from the start, and now it is willing me on; telling me that deep down, I know what I have to do.

"I...I don't know how to say this," I say shakily. "But I just want that man to pay for what he's done. You deserve justice. I can't stand in the way of that." I can't look at him, because I know this is going to hurt both of us.

"Are you...are you giving up on us?" he asks, his voice cracking. _No! _I want to shout. I'm not giving up. But the fact is that doing this doesn't give me a choice in the matter. How can we go our separate ways for nearly a year and still survive?

"Please don't think that. I couldn't bear it if you thought that," I reply, almost crying again. "I need you to understand something. That night, I promised myself that I'd do everything I could to make sure that _thug _would be caught. And then I fell in love with you, and I knew that whatever happened, I was going to stand up in court and tell everyone exactly what he did to you. I was always going to do that, even if we had still been strangers. But the more I fell for you, the more determined I've become to see Brooks get sent down."

Troy has closed his eyes, and I don't have any idea what he will say next. The fear I am feeling is reaching the surface now, and I blurt out, "please don't hate me for doing this."

The next thing I know, Troy has pulled me back into his arms. "I could never hate you, baby. Not ever. I just don't want to let you go," he tells me, stroking my hair. And even though I cannot be certain of what I'm about to say, I speak anyway.

"You don't have to," I whisper, hoping with all my heart that he won't one day give up on us himself. "When all this is over, nothing will stand in our way again. I need you to trust me in this, and promise me that you'll wait so that we can come back to each other. Because that's what I'm going to be doing. Every day."

I stop and look into his eyes. He knows that I have to do this. I am doing this _for_ him, even though it will break my heart to be away from him. "I promise," he whispers softly. "I love you, Gabriella."

"I love you," I breathe out tearfully. "I love you." We share a long, lingering kiss, and after we break apart, I have to force myself to carry on speaking.

"School finishes on Friday, and then I'll be off work for the rest of the summer. I might go and visit my auntie in Australia for a bit. If I stay in London, I'll just want to see you and I won't be able to stop myself. You'll be back at work soon. We'll keep ourselves busy, and this will all be over before we know it," I tell Troy. I think I am telling myself just as much, though.

He nods, and now we acknowledge that there is nothing more to say. Troy stands up and brings me with him and into a hug, and we stand there for what feels like an age. Finally, he lets me go, turns away quickly and heads out to leave.

I am frozen. I want this to be a dream, but it's painfully real. Troy turns back suddenly and meets my eyes. "Will you find a way to let me know you're okay? I won't be able to wait nine months to know that," he says. Now it is my turn to promise.

"I will," I answer, and as I watch him smile faintly and walk away, I can only stand there and cry. Making this decision hurts, and I know that I am going to miss him every day. There is going to be a constant fear within me now. A fear that despite the sincerity of our promises, something will happen that will prevent us from continuing where we have left off. This may be too long a wait for us.

But as much as this possibility rips me apart, I know I did the right thing. I will not let us be manipulated in court. Troy deserves justice; and the man who almost killed him deserves a prison sentence.

**And there's the twist in the story! What did you think?**

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	13. Letters

**Hey everyone! Am glad you all liked the last chapter, despite the sudden twist! So, here is chapter thirteen...enjoy :)**

I can't deny it: Australia is beautiful. I always wanted to come here; always expected it to be like this. And yet, under these circumstances, I will never enjoy it as much I would have liked to.

It's been three weeks. Three weeks since I last saw his face, those eyes, that smile.I have been out here for a week and a half now, and though I have been sightseeing; I am just doing it on autopilot. If I just stay inside my Auntie Karen's flat, moping, she will worry about me. So I make myself go out.

I got through that last week of teaching before summer started just barely, and booked my flight to come out here as soon as I could. I'll be here for another month, and then I'll go back to London. Back to my job, my flat, my friends. And the waiting game.

I spend each day worrying and wondering. Worrying about Troy, and wondering whether we can ever go back to how it was before. I love him, and I know he loves me; but what if we just _can't _go back? It is me that has asked him to wait this out, even though I can honestly say that I only did this _for_ him. I am scared of the possibility that he will move on from me – even though, deep down, I know he is better than that. And I know he meant the promise he made to me. But maybe neither of us really knew how hard this was going to be. Maybe keeping busy isn't going to help us.

I suddenly remember my own promise to Troy. I told him that I would let him know I'm okay. But doing this via phone or email is something I am apprehensive about. Brooks has stooped low enough to use our relationship against us _and_ to use his mother to help him. So I fear that any direct communication between Troy and I could, somehow, be traced, and then be used to imply that we are still 'in cahoots'.

Just as my head is beginning to ache from thinking too much, an idea comes to me. It is simple, and I find myself wondering why I was able to consider such things as email, but was apparently _un_able to think of something else that has existed for far longer. A letter. But I'm going to need some help in order to make sure that Troy will receive it, undetected.

_**.HSM.**_

The moment I think of it, I begin writing. I write down everything. My thoughts, my fears, and how much I love Troy. I try to be positive and upbeat too, for his sake. And by the end of the day, there is a stamp addressed envelope, ready and waiting to be posted the following morning. Only, it doesn't have Troy's address on the front. That is written on the front of a smaller envelope inside – the one which carries the letter.

I wait until it will be a decent hour in England, and then finally I make a call to my mother. She agrees to my plan immediately, and after a long chat, I hang up and can finally rest for the night, feeling relieved. Now I don't feel so alone here. Because hopefully, in a few days' time, Troy will be reading my letter. We will stay connected this way.

I catch the early morning post in plenty of time, knowing that my mother will be expecting the delivery of this letter. She is going to send it on to Troy for me, and my hope is that he will then send me a letter back via mum. All she has to do is forward it over to me.

I just want to know if he's okay, as much as he wanted to know the same about me. He will be starting back at work in a few days, which will perhaps give him a better chance at coping than me at the moment. Being on holiday is nice; but when you need distractions and normality to keep you going, work actually helps with that. It's strange how I used to crave for these days of relaxation and freedom – and now they are making time go by unbearably slowly. All I can do now is try and get something out of my time here, by spending time with my auntie.

As a week goes by, we find plenty to do, and I must admit I am able to cheer up somewhat – although I still think of Troy every day. Karen has taken some annual leave from her own job, and we use the time to relax on the local beach and eat out at some of her favourite places. She also manages to persuade me into a bit of retail therapy. My Auntie Karen, it seems, is a champion shopper, and by the time half the day is over I am worn out!

Exactly a week after I sent off Troy's letter, I am woken abruptly by Karen's voice. "Gabi! There's a letter here for you!" she is shouting. And before she can come and give it to me herself I am up and racing into her lounge. She grins at me knowingly, hands over the envelope, and leaves me alone with it.

Seeing my mother's swirly handwriting on the front, I tear it open to reveal another envelope which is titled simply: _Gabriella._ Having already told my mother to enclose her address to Troy, I know that he will have placed this letter inside another envelope in order to send it to her. Considering that she then had to re-address it herself to forward it on to me, the postage must be adding up to quite a bit. It feels like we are the ones being punished by having to go through all this just to communicate with each other. Maybe I should suggest that Troy hand delivers his letters to my mum. It would also mean that she would be able to let me know how he is _really _coping.

Staring down at the envelope, I have no idea what the letter is going to say, but already I feel like Troy is with me again. For a moment, I just sit with it in my hands, my eyes closed as I picture him and wonder what he is doing right now.

Finally I open the second envelope, much more carefully than I did the first one. I want to save each letter he sends me until we are together again. I make myself read slowly, drinking in every written word.

_Dear Gabriella,_

_Your letter arrived with perfect timing, because it came on a day where I was really struggling. It was my first day back at work, as well as on the police training. I haven't told anyone else this, but I was scared. I woke up wanting to be able to talk to you about it, and knowing that I couldn't. It was then that I realised why I seemed to be coping so well with everything before. It was because of you. _

_You saved my life (and I will always maintain that no matter how much you claim otherwise), and you were there all the way through my recovery. You kept me upbeat and gave me a reason to smile after the attack. You kept me strong. But when it came to facing the world of work again, alone – I was anything but strong. I didn't think I could go back out there, doing what I've done so many times before as a PCSO, because now I know first-hand just how risky the job is. _

_So there I was, cowering in my flat and trying to muster up enough courage to get back to work, when your letter came. By the time I had finished reading it, I felt different. It was as if you had sent me some strength for the day ahead, and I took that, along with your letter, around with me all day. I actually managed to immerse myself back into the job with a smile on my face. Thanks to you._

_Knowing how hard this is on you as well reminded me that I'm not really alone, even though right now you're on the other side of the world. But I don't want you to be scared that we won't make it through this together. We will. It won't be easy, because life never is – but we both learned that a while ago. I may sometimes doubt myself, like I did on that first day back to work; but I have never doubted us - you and me. _

_Even though you didn't mention it directly in your letter, I know you're worrying about something else, too. The decision you had to make. Please don't torture yourself over it – I know you did it for me. I know you chose to walk away because you love me; I could see it in your eyes that day. So just remember that I love you too, more than I ever thought possible. _

_I am missing you every moment of every day, and I don't think that will change until I finally see you again. Mum and Dad miss having you around, too – actually, Mum asked me to mention that in this letter. _

_I can't wait until the day I will get to see you again, and for that trial to be out of the way. But I promise that I _will _wait. I would wait forever as long as it meant I could be with you again. I love you, Gabriella Montez. _

_Love, Troy_

There are tears spilling onto the page as I finish reading. I am feeling so many things. It is hard knowing that I can't be there for him when he needs me. And yet, through my letter, he felt my presence; just as I can feel his with me now.

Suddenly my doubts about this long wait are easing. Troy has faith in us, and so do I. I simply let fear get in the way of love. But now, I can feel myself drawing a new-found strength from his words. I just hope it lasts.

**Please Review!**


	14. Ring

**Thanks for the reviews! Nearly at 100, yippee! ;) Here it is, hope you like it!**

I am sitting on a plane, with a long journey back to England ahead of me. When I finally get home, I'll only have a few days to get over the jet lag before returning to work for the new school year. I am exhausted already and we haven't even taken off yet. So goodness knows what I'm going to feel like by the time I arrive in London.

I have spent the last month keeping busy during the rest of my 'holiday' in Australia; as well as writing continuous letters back and forth with Troy. Our letters have been keeping me going, making me smile as I think of him.

Despite this, I cannot seem to sleep at night, which is why I find myself trying not to doze off in my seat at this very moment. Even if I actually could, though, I still wouldn't be able to rest here. I am sitting next to the most irritatingly loud man, who is speaking very seriously into his phone as if his life depends on the call alone. I open my eyes and turn my head to towards him to take in his appearance, and it is obvious that he is a businessman – the overly smart suit and tie confirms it.

I notice that others around me also appear to be annoyed by his loudness, as another man rolls his eyes in distaste, and a young woman lets out a deep sigh. Finally Mr. Irritating ends his conversation and hangs up the phone, and I close my eyes again in the hope of some peace. No such luck. Behind me, there is a baby crying, and the ringing of another phone. This is going to be a very restless flight.

_**.HSM.**_

It takes a lot of energy for me to brighten up before meeting my mum at the airport, where she is picking me up. But when I catch sight of her, standing there and waiting for me with a big smile on her face; I already feel a bit happier.

I run over to her and we hug, after which she begins to lead me away to the car park. I ask my mother how she is, what's new with her lately. But after she has told me everything, and I have told her all about Karen and Australia; I cannot contain myself any longer. There is only one person that I really want to talk about now.

"Mum? How was Troy when you saw him?" Since he only managed to hand deliver a letter to her once and this was quite recently, I haven't had a chance to ask her this yet.

"It's hard to say, really," replies Mum. "He was talking about how busy he had been at work – which I suppose explains why most of his letters were just put straight in the post. Anyway, when he was talking about work he sounded alright. But then when we started talking about you, his whole face changed. He wanted me to tell you something, and I decided I should relay this to you in person rather than over the phone."

I can feel my heart sinking; I don't know what I'm about to hear, but it sounds like it could go either way. "What...what did he say?" I ask, closing my eyes as if awaiting a bombshell.

"Well, he said to tell you, 'I promise. Every day.' Gabi, it's so obvious how much that boy loves you," she says softly. My heart lifts itself back up again in relief. I know exactly what Troy's message means. It's his way of letting me know that he is still waiting, just as I am. Just as I promised I would, _every day_. This is enough to bring a smile to my face as we drive through London, and I am even able to laugh at my mum's comment.

"That _boy? _Mum, you do know we are both twenty-three years old, don't you?" I ask her, still chuckling.

She rolls her eyes. "I know, I know. It's just that this is your first boyfriend, so I feel like I should be saying all the appropriate things that come with that situation. Except of course, I can't demand that you're home by ten every night!"

"_Ten? _And anyway, that would be a bit difficult considering I won't get to see Troy for another seven months. But I suppose being older means I really know what I want, because I'm still prepared to wait until then," I say thoughtfully. My mother looks wistful as I finish speaking, and I wonder whether she is remembering how it felt for _her_ to be in love for the first time.

When we arrive outside my flat, I am glad to finally be home. Mum senses that I just need to go inside and rest, so we say a quick goodbye and I promise to call her the next day. Then I wave as she drives away and slowly venture inside, trying to guess whether Erin and Kelly will be around at this time of day. But the flat is empty when I reach it, which is a relief as I can go straight to bed without having to summon up yet more energy for another conversation.

I am literally seconds away from collapsing onto my bed when I suddenly spot something sitting on my pillow. It's an envelope with my name on it, written in Troy's handwriting. I wasn't expecting another letter yet, having told him how long it was going to take me to get back to London, and that it would be a good few days before I would be able to function well enough to write him back properly. So now I am intrigued, and sleep can wait just a little bit longer.

Ripping the envelope open, I find a single square piece of paper inside. I had thought that by the time I got home I would be too exhausted to cry yet _again _over our long separation. But as I read the note from him tears are cascading down my cheeks, with no sign of stopping. I read the words over and over, and as I take them in I realise that it's Troy who has made me cry; not the fact that we are apart. And that these tears are happy ones, despite our circumstances.

_Dear Gabi,_

_Welcome home! I wish I could be here with you right now – just as I do every other day. I love you, and I miss you more than ever._

_Love, Troy _

After reading the note for the hundredth time in minutes, I put it down next to me, face down. It is then that I notice that there is something else written on the back of the piece of paper.

_P.S. Look again inside the envelope. _

Immediately I find the seemingly empty envelope discarded behind me, and tip it upside down. A small item falls into my lap, which appears to have been tightly wrapped in plain paper. As I unfurl it I gasp at the silver, shiny object, before realising that there is yet more writing on the paper in which it was wrapped. And what do I think when I read _that_? Well, for one thing, I think it has been fully established that Troy Bolton certainly knows how to make a girl cry. Or at least, he certainly knows how to make _me _cry. Again, of course, I mean I am crying tears of happiness. Because even in these uncertain times revolving around what lies ahead of us; even when we cannot be together in person - he has once again made me certain about us.

_I hope that this ring will remind you of three things:_

_- That I love you_

_- That as long as you are wearing it we won't really be apart_

_- That one day I intend to give you another ring – one that means we will never be separated again._

I grasp hold of the delicate ring, which has a series of tiny diamond studs around it. Then I carefully slip it onto my finger, knowing without hesitation that I will never take it off.

_**.HSM.**_

"Gabi! We missed you!" I hear Kelly shout as she and Erin come in. They've obviously seen my suitcase, which I abandoned in the lounge the minute I got home. Within seconds the two of them are crashing into my room to ambush me.

"You're back!" exclaims Erin loudly, and I force myself to wake up properly from my nap. I must have just nodded off, with Troy's notes still clasped firmly in my hands.

"Hey, you two. I missed you too," I say with a smile as I sit up to face them.

"So, how _are _you? What was Australia like..." Erin begins, then trails off as she seems to notice what is on my hand. "Where did that come from?" she and Kelly blurt out at the same time. I have no idea how they manage to do that so precisely.

"There was a note on my bed from Troy," I say calmly. I hold up the ring for them to see, "and this was in it." My friends swiftly grab hold of my hand to get a closer inspection of the ring. "I suppose you could call it an eternity ring," I add as an afterthought. The idea of that makes me smile.

"Oh Gabi, it's gorgeous!" Erin replies. "Your mum dropped off that envelope a few days ago. I gathered it was another letter from Troy, but this is even better!" Kelly looks as though she is still thinking about how I came to have the ring.

"So it was just sitting there in the envelope waiting for you?" she asks quietly. I nod slowly, and Erin lets out a giggle. "I think we've already worked that one out, Kel," she replies.

Kelly snaps out of her trance and rolls her eyes, looking back at me. "That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard of," she tells me seriously.

"I know," I whisper back, closing my eyes. _I just wish Troy was here so I could tell him that. _

**As always: Please leave a Review! :) **


	15. Revisited

**Hey guys! Thanks for reviewing this story so far – it makes me smile, especially now that we have gone beyond the 100 review mark! Here is chapter fifteen for you. Enjoy :)**

I have no idea why I agreed to come back here. It's a Friday night, and Erin and Kelly have dragged me out for a night on the town. Incidentally we are in the very same club in which they both abandoned me, on the night I first laid eyes on Troy. Although this time, they have both promised me faithfully that they will not ditch me again. I'm inclined to believe them, despite the fact that I feel very strange about being here tonight – or at all, for that matter.

I've been back at work for a few weeks now, and we are well into the autumn term. My job is as enjoyable as ever, but every day when I come home, all I can think of is Troy. I wrote back to him straight away after receiving my ring, and we are still exchanging letters every week or so. Now my routine is to drop off my letters to Mum every weekend if I can, at which time I also take the opportunity to stay for lunch with her. She has continued to send each letter on to Troy as usual, so at least now I am in the country to reimburse her for the postage costs.

There are times when I hate how complicated this all is. I just want to send him my letters myself; to call him up directly to tell him how precious this ring has become to me. Sometimes I wonder if I'm being too cautious. Would anyone really know if I just sent the letters myself? After all, no matter what happens between now and the trial, our relationship is still going to be discussed in court.

But then I have to remind myself of the reason I chose to do this. To do all I can to keep the focus on the most important issue, which is what happened to Troy on the very street that is just yards away from me now. We both know that I have to do this, for that reason as well as the fact that I love him.

I'm still debating whether I love my friends enough to be back here again, though. The thing is, when we go out at night in London, we never go anywhere else _but _here. But I haven't really been out like thisin so long now. Not that I've missed it.

At least Erin hasn't brought her boyfriend this time, either. They had another row last weekend, and still aren't speaking. I have never questioned their relationship before, but now that I know how it feels to actually be in one, I do find myself wondering what Erin and Nick _really _feel for each other. I know that couples do argue, but that seems to be all those two ever do. The latest disagreement is apparently over their individual music tastes. I struggled not to laugh when I heard that.

I am just standing there, next to the bar whilst chuckling to myself, when Erin walks over with our drinks. Kelly hasn't emerged from the ladies' yet, so Erin has bought her a drink too. "What are you laughing about?" she asks curiously, handing me a glass of wine. "Thanks," I say in reference to the drink as I take a quick sip. "Was I laughing?" I reply, trying to sound innocent. "Oh, I can't remember what it was now!"

"Well, at least you seem to be in a good mood," Erin answers cheerfully, then hands Kelly her glass as she comes over to join us. I simply smile at the two of them and take another sip of my drink. I could disagree, and tell them that I am unsure about being here. But if there was ever a time to do that, it would have been back at the flat before we left. Now that we're here, all I can do is try to have a reasonably good time.

_**.HSM.**_

Thank God Erin is so sensible when her boyfriend isn't around to distract her. Kelly is so drunk that she can barely stand up. The three of us are sitting at a quiet table in the corner, hoping that the bar staff won't notice the state she is in and throw us all out.

The problem is, Kelly will chat and flirt with any guy that comes her way – and this has resulted in her receiving multiple free drinks from each of them. Which means that we cannot leave her alone, just in case one of these men tries to spike her drink with something.

Anyway, Erin took charge when she realised that Kelly had had one too many – or more accurately, _five_ too many. So now here we are, at half past midnight, hiding in the corner while she phones for a taxi. "Twenty minutes," she says to me as she hangs up, and we both look at Kelly warily. She looks pale and has now passed the stage of drunken rambling and instead taken to swaying in her seat. She could either be dancing, or trying to distract herself from a wave of nausea. But judging by her face, I'd go with the latter.

We head outside after fifteen minutes have passed, eager to be ready for when our taxi arrives. Kelly is actually able to walk okay now, providing that Erin and I support her – so we are all linking arms. We continue to keep her steady like this as we find a quiet spot to stand and wait in outside the club. Then Kelly begins to say something. Just as she starts rambling about one of the guys she met who, 'wouldn't stop staring at her', something on the other side of the street catches my eye, and I block out my friend's drunken chatter in favour of being nosey.

There is a group of men across the road, looking harmless but clearly far too drunk to function without a little guidance from the people patrolling the streets. It's this obvious fact that keeps me watching, and then allows me to set eyes on the one person I really want to see.

I keep watching as he and a colleague help the men on their way, and a few seconds later, he sees me. And there is that smile of his. To me, it stands out from any kind of crowd, no matter how far away I'm standing. That smile couldn't belong to anyone else but Troy. I smile back, unconsciously fiddling with the ring on my finger at the same time. There is nothing I want more than to run right over to him, without a second thought. But then all this unbearable time apart will have been for nothing. I know he knows this too, and for a moment I feel as though it is only the two of us, staring across at each other in longing.

Then a voice reminds me of my surroundings. "Gabi? Taxi's here," says Erin gently, and I can tell by her soft tone that she has spotted Troy too. Kelly, on the other hand, looks as though she has no idea where we are; let alone who else is around us. The three of us get into the back of a large taxi, and my eyes immediately look to the window as I sit down. He is still there, rooted to the spot – his face now as serious as mine has suddenly become. As the driver slowly pulls away I hold my hand up to show Troy that I am still wearing the ring. And I can just make out the words he mouths to me as we leave the street.

"_I love you."_

_**.HSM.**_

_One minute he is there, in front of me. I can see him, hear him; touch him and everything is fine. I hear him tell me he loves me, and I feel as though nothing can ruin this. Then we are drifting away, further and further apart until he is just a figure in the distance – almost like a dream. I look to my hand and find that my ring is no longer there. It has disappeared, and so has my everything else. _

I wake up with a jump, gasping as I recall how vivid and real that dream was – even if it was presented to me in an unrealistic manner. I quickly glance at my hand, and smile in reassurance at the sight of the precious ring. Of course, I know that the dream's focus wasn't really about the ring. It was about me and Troy.

But if I'm supposed to take this as a sign to give up on us; I won't do it. I refuse to. Seeing his face last night has only made me even more certain.

Rubbing my eyes, I look at the clock and am surprised to see that it is already midday. I am just wondering whether the others have surfaced yet when I hear voices. There's Kelly's, which surprises me even more given that I expected her to be sleeping off a hangover for most of the day. The biggest surprise, however, is the presence of male voices in our flat. _What on earth..._

They are all mumbling, so I cannot decipher what everyone is saying; but now I can hear Erin's voice as well. I'm far too curious - and incredulous – not to go and investigate, so I hurriedly get dressed. I brush my tangled hair into a neat ponytail and finally emerge from my room to see my two best friends sitting opposite two men who look about the same age as us. Kelly is all smiles, but Erin looks more than a bit put out underneath a very forced smile. She glances my way and looks at me as if to say, _'if I have to play host then so do you.' _Frankly I have no problem with retreating back to bed_, _but now it is too late. Kelly and our two guests have spotted me.

"This is Gabriella, our other flatmate. I don't think you met her last night?" says Kelly, and the two men shake their heads as a 'no', then offer me a smile.

And then she introduces them to me, and when I hear the names I freeze in shock. Surely this is not a coincidence – it couldn't be. Instantly I know exactly who they are. I'm just not entirely certain of the nature of my impending reaction.

**Any guesses? Let me know in a Review!**

**(Go on, you know you want to...haha)**

**Thanks ;)**


	16. Confronting

**Hi all! Thanks for the guesses from the last chapter. A few of you thought it might be Troy – but I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer for that reunion! In the meantime, read on and hope you enjoy it! :)**

"Gabi," says Kelly. "This is Tom and Matt. They were at the club last night too. They bought me a couple of drinks themselves, actually. Must have been when you were in the loo or something."

_Clearly I must have been. _Now that I have had a closer look at the two men sitting in our living room, there are two revelations that are screaming out at me inside my head.

They are the very same Tom and Matt who abandoned Troy that night before he was attacked. I know this instinctively. But the creepier thing is this: _I know them already_. I went to school with them years ago, and was bullied mercilessly by both of them. I was pushed, threatened and verbally insulted on a daily basis. I think it is this that has convinced me that they are the ones who left Troy.

I turn away for a moment, trying to think what to do. But Matt begins to address me anyway. "Nice to meet you," he is saying politely, and out of the corner of my eye I can see that he has stood up to attempt to shake my hand. So he doesn't remember me yet. At all. It seems that neither of them do.

Quickly I grab Erin and Kelly and pull them in the direction of the kitchen, calling out, "excuse us!" over my shoulder to the two waiting men. How ironic, when they are the ones who should be making excuses. Not that there are any. "Gabi, what on earth..." says Kelly as I shut the kitchen door behind us. Erin is just staring at me, wide-eyed.

"Do you remember I told you about Troy's 'friends' who went home without him on the night of the attack, and then made no further contact with him?" I blurt out all at once. Erin nods immediately, and then thinks for a few seconds. "Of course," she says sincerely. "Weren't they called..."

Suddenly her face changes and it dawns on her, too. "You mean, _they're_ _Tom and Matt_?" she asks, her voice getting higher with shock. All I can do is nod. Kelly looks equally stunned.

"And it gets worse," I add. "I went to school with them. They were nasty pieces of work then too. When we left school I never heard of them again, but all Troy told me was that they all went to college together – he and Chad, Tom and Matt. He never mentioned their surnames to me, so I had no idea..."

Erin stops me. "Calm down, Gabi. So what are we going to do _now_?" It's a good question. _I have no idea. _I don't want to talk to them – make pleasantries, smile, that sort of thing. What I really want to do is ask them _why. _I want to know why they walked away, but even more than that, I want to know why they never looked back. Why did they treat Troy like that?

Doing that could be risky, though. I'd end up outing myself as the witness/girlfriend. I know the third option would be to throw them out; but that would mean them getting away with what they did. Now my anger is overpowering the other worries, and I turn to face my friends. "Follow my lead," I say calmly, before opening the door and walking back into the living room.

We all sit down in front of Tom and Matt as though everything is fine. I can't believe I'm doing this, but I actually force myself to smile at them. And just as I hoped for, I can almost see the light bulbs going off in their heads. They have realised who I am. Tom speaks first. "Montez?" he says in almost a whisper.

If the only issue here was the fact that they used to bully me; then this meeting and the satisfied smile I just gave them would be enough. But it's not, and it isn't. I don't do anything to react to their realisation other than nod. And after a few more minutes of silence, Matt takes his turn to speak. "Didn't I hear about you on the news recently?"

Well, I didn't expect that to come up so soon. But it's better than me revealing it myself. I don't even nod now; I just wait. I am wondering whether either of them know _why _I was on the news. I stare at them intently, with my friends still sitting silently around me. And we all watch as the two men go pale before our eyes. Perhaps they do have a conscience after all.

Matt, who I remember from school as the least aggressive of the two, turns to look at Tom. He is whispering, but I can still tell what he is saying. "She witnessed that attack on Troy!" Tom says nothing in return. He obviously didn't need it spelt out for him.

Even though they are clearly shocked, it angers me how trivially Troy's attack is being spoken about here. And now I cannot stay silent for a moment longer.

"_That_ attack almost killed him!" I reply loudly, and their heads snap up in shock at my outburst. Maybe I have just hinted that I might be more than just the key witness. But then again, Matt just made it clear that he and Tom know Troy. So I wonder if they'll elaborate on this. I decide to play along as though what they are saying is news to me.

"So you know Troy well, then?" I say, telling myself to keep calm if I want to hear their side of the story. They look worried now, as if admitting this fact will instantly make them look bad. Little do they know that they made themselves look bad long before this moment. What they do appear to realise is that they are already being backed into a corner. Both Tom and Matt simply nod at me.

I have a sudden flash of inspiration as to what to say next. "You're not the friends who left the club without him, are you?" I ask innocently, as if I am just guessing. They look even more bewildered now. I decide to continue. "It's just that I'm going to be involved in the court case, and I heard that initially, Troy was out with a group of friends that night." They are just sitting there and looking at me, as if trying to work out what my angle is here. Then in a matter of seconds, Matt seems to crack. He stands up abruptly and starts rambling, nervous and defensive all at once.

"Look, we didn't know that he would get beaten up, okay! He works with the police force, we thought he'd be fine on his own." As he speaks, Tom remains seated, his head in his hands as he stays silent. They are both beginning to feel as guilty as they look. But the thing is, of course they couldn't have known that Troy would be attacked that night. They left him on his own, just as Erin and Kelly did to me. The difference is, the men in front of me never bothered to make contact. They never checked to see if Troy was okay; never visited him or offered an apology for their actions. And it's this, and the reasons for it, that I want to find out about.

However, as far as they know, I am unaware that they haven't seen or spoken to Troy since the attack. I am just working out how to word my next question when to my surprise, Erin pipes up. "Hey," she says in an almost gentle manner that sounds very convincing, even to me. "No one's judging you. I mean, I'm sure you've since made amends for your part in what happened that night?" she asks, knowing full well that the answer is no. It's amazing how quickly Tom and Matt's faces change in the next moment - from immensely pale to deep shades of red.

They don't answer straight away, and as I continue to watch them squirming in their seats, I wonder whether they do have some humility in them after all. This opinion soon changes after a few more minutes when I hear what they have to say, though.

This time, Tom looks directly at me to speak, a resentful smirk replacing the previous expressions on his face. "What is this, some kind of revenge for what we did to you at school?"

So they remember being bullies, then. Not that they appear sorry for any of it. I manage an easy smile, although I am growing angry again at the implication that I would goad them about Troy's attack for 'revenge' on my own behalf. "This has nothing to do with what you put me through back then. I got over that a long time ago. I'm talking about something terrible that happened to a friend of yours, and it sounds to me like neither of you cared enough to bother with him after it happened. All that says to me is that you obviously haven't changed a bit."

Tom looks as though he wants to challenge me again, but thinks better of it. Surely if he did care about Troy at all, he would argue back at this point. But he doesn't, and neither does Matt. I know now that I won't be getting any more answers from them. But it doesn't matter. They both take my last statement as their cue to leave, and without a word they walk out of the flat. Who knows where they plan on going now, but all I know is that I hope I never see them again. And I hope for Troy's sake that they don't attempt to contact him now. Clearly they don't deserve to have his friendship anyway.

"That was brilliant, Gabi!" says Kelly the moment they are gone. Erin grins at me in agreement. I suppose without even realising it, I have just accomplished two things. I have just confronted my childhood bullies; and I have also confronted two people who turned out not to be true friends of Troy's. I just never thought that Tom and Matt could be both of those things. It's just something else that links Troy and I together.

The next thing on my agenda is to write another letter to Troy, to warn him about Tom and Matt and tell him about my encounter with them. I also need to remind him of how I feel by responding to his fleeting declaration on the street last night. I need to remind him that I love him too. Because I think I have just proved that this is where my strength has come from today.

**What did you think? I like to think that in her own, dignified way, Gabi has done what we would all like to do to bullies: take them down a few pegs! As well as that she was able to make a point about how they treated Troy.**

**Anyway...**

**Please Review! **


	17. Strength

**Thank you for the reviews! And to new readers, thanks for the feedback – all of the comments I'm getting make me proud to write this story :) Enjoy!**

It's Christmas. Well, it's Christmas tomorrow, officially. The past few months have dragged by amidst the chaos of teaching, as well as constant letter writing in my spare time. And I say 'dragged by' in all honesty, despite what I said about how busy it is being a teacher. Yes, the days go by relatively quickly when you are working at a school; but then day turns to night and that is when I have these lonely moments. That is when I miss Troy the most.

I was glad to learn, after my encounter with them, that Tom and Matt did not get in touch with Troy. If they had dared to do so, it would have been more than obvious that they were doing it because of the home truths I dealt them. And that's not a good enough reason to attempt to be a friend to someone. It's not a good enough reason to call themselves Troy's friends.

I am sat in my mother's living room, waiting for the rest of the family to arrive for the Christmas Eve celebrations. The family include my nan; my Auntie Jill, her husband and their kids, and my other Uncle Billy. Karen is staying in Australia over Christmas, but has promised to call everyone on Christmas morning.

As much as I love my family, they are extremely predictable. I just know that, as they do every year, they will all hound me in their usual jolly way about my love life. Generally the first question tends to be, "have you got a boyfriend yet?" which I suppose is to be expected when you reach the age of twenty-three having _never_ had a boyfriend. It's just typical that on my first Christmas where I'm in a relationship, we cannot be together.

I only ever see and speak to my Auntie and Uncles at this time of year, as they all live so far away. It just so happened that this year was mum's turn to host the annual get-together. I asked mum not to discuss anything about Troy and I to the rest of the family – I didn't want to create yet more fuss over it. With my nan, I did tell her all about Troy, how we met and that I had fallen for him. But then the complications of the trial came up and I never did explain what happened next. I stopped discussing our relationship with her and she stopped asking – it just became too hard for me to have to explain, when I am going through it in the way that I am. Now I am wondering whether she thinks we have split up.

After waiting for another five minutes, everyone turns up at once. We exchange the usual greetings, as families do, and then all settle down with our drinks. And within mere seconds, Auntie Jill clears her throat. Here comes the annual question...

"So, Gabriella. Got yourself a young man yet?" she asks with a light chuckle. _Ah. She's rephrased the question. _Well, I'm not going to lie. It might be a complex situation, but sitting here with all eyes upon me, awaiting my answer; I know that I'm proud of my relationship. I don't want to hide it from my family, even if I'm going to have to explain everything in detail.

"Actually yes, I have," I reply, a small smile on my face. My nan's face shows a flicker of knowledge, and I nod so that she knows that I'm talking about the same man. And so I tell them everything, from the attack, right up to the letters I've been exchanging with Troy. And at the end of my story, I show them my ring. Nan and Jill in particular are captivated by all that I have told them.

"So you're actually staying away from him until the trial so you can see justice done?" asks Jill. I give a little nod, and she smiles at me, before looking again in awe at the ring on my finger. "That's amazing, darling. The same can be said for that gorgeous ring of yours! I'd say the both of you are lucky to have found each other."

I cannot help but blush at this. My nan, too, looks touched. "I do worry sometimes, though," I add. "There's still four months to go until the trial. What if something happens before then and we can't go back to how we were?" Nan smiles knowingly at me for a moment, then reaches for my hand and squeezes it.

"Gabi, my dear, four months is nothing. When your grandfather and I first got together, he was in the army, stationed in Germany. Do you remember me telling you that?" she asks seriously. I smile back at her, letting her know that yes, of course I remember. My grandad passed away when I was in my teens, and he and my nan had been married for almost fifty years. "We hadn't known each other for very long when he was sent back there. His next leave wasn't for another year, and during that time we wrote to each other every week. I was scared too – but he came back to me. And when all of this is over, your Troy will be back by your side where he belongs, too."

Her story and statement is heartfelt, and there are tears in my eyes. I always knew deep down that Troy and I are going to be okay; but the fear was still there, however small. Now I remind myself yet again that love is deeper than fear. It is endless. Fear is not.

_**.HSM.**_

Sometime later, after dinner has been eaten and midnight is fast approaching, it is time for our family tradition. Everyone is allowed to open one present each as a 'treat'. Obviously this sentiment was much more exciting as a child. But hey, I'll never say no to an early present!

Mum beats everyone out by rushing over to the Christmas tree first, and immediately picks up a small gold gift bag. There is a gleam in her eye as she walks over to me and places it in my hands. "Merry Christmas, Gabi," she says, smiling from ear to ear. She and everyone else in the room are looking at me expectantly, so I open the bag and carefully begin to unwrap the small package that sits inside it.

It's a pair of earrings. Earrings that I have wanted for a long time, but have not been able to afford. I pointed them out to Troy once when we were out. Just once, and he remembered. I don't even recall mentioning them to him again – which is what makes this Christmas gift so amazing.

I look up at my family, still clutching the delicate jewellery. Mum is still grinning at me, and the others are simply waiting for me to show them my present. As I do this, my mother sidles up to me and whispers in my ear. "He sent that over weeks ago. I gathered it was going to be something special. And it must be, judging by the look on your face."

I tell them all what is so special about these earrings, and then I add that I got Troy a new watch with an engraving on it as his Christmas gift. Then I sit and watch as everyone else takes their turn to open a present. It's only as I put the earrings back in the gift box, and place it in the gold bag again, that I realise there is an envelope in there too. I should have known that there would be.

I keep the envelope to myself, preferring to read it on my own. And when everyone has left and my mother has gone to bed, I stay seated in the living room and open the letter.

_Dear Gabi,_

_This year is almost over. It could have been the worst one of my life if it weren't for you. Without you, I might not be here. Without you, I might still have been struggling to get back to normal. And though you're not with me right now in person, I know that I'm not _really_ without you._

_I know it doesn't feel like it, but it won't be much longer now. We've already made it through the last five months, so I know we can do this. _

_Merry Christmas, baby._

_All my love, _

_Troy_

Although I find myself crying now, I am filled with yet more strength from his words. _"I know we can do this." _As well as this, I recall what my nan told me earlier. _"When all of this is over, your Troy will be back by your side where he belongs, too."_ She truly believes that. Troy _promises_ that. And they're right. We _can _do this. We're already doing it.

_**.HSM.**_

A week later I am back at the flat with Erin and Kelly, celebrating New Year's Eve. We are sipping wine, having chosen to stay in for the night rather than go to some wild party. Erin and her boyfriend are on yet another break from their relationship, after yet _another _argument_. _And Kelly has declared her New Year's resolution to be to drink less (I don't believe her). As for me, I'm perfectly happy with staying in anyway.

It's not that I'm moping because Troy isn't with me – although it does put a downer on most of my days. I just can't say that the idea of going out and getting insanely drunk excites me, as it does to many others my age. I don't go clubbing for the alcohol intake – it's for the social side of it, and for a bit of a laugh at the end of a long and busy week.

"So, lets sum up this year," says Erin, out of the blue. "Regrets, people?" She eyes us curiously, and I laugh at her blunt question. Kelly looks at us both, her face totally serious as she words her response. "I regret not starting this alcohol detox sooner – it feels great!" Now Erin and I erupt into giggles.

"I'm not sure you can claim you're on a detox yet, Kel," I reply, still laughing. "Look at how much wine you've had already!" She looks at her almost empty glass and shrugs her shoulders.

"Okay, fine," she says, defeated. "I regret drinking so much and making a complete idiot out of myself far too often. Happy now?" Erin and I give each other a little satisfied smirk, and then it is her turn to confess.

"I regret not splitting up with Nick sooner," she says quietly. Kelly's mouth hangs open, and my reaction is not much different. I stay silent for a few seconds in order to take this in. I hope she's as happy about it as her statement has just implied.

"You mean it's really over for good this time?" I ask carefully. Erin nods back at us.

"We had no idea, Erin. We just thought you two had had another row," says Kelly.

"We did. Only this time it wasn't just a stupid argument. We both realised it was going nowhere. I think things had been heading that way for a long time," she replies. Then she smiles brightly. "But I'm fine, really! Like I said, I regret not doing anything about it sooner." It's clear that she really means what she's saying, and I'm truly happy for her.

"So, is it my turn?" I say, changing the subject. But my friends look at each other and then interrupt me before I can continue. "Actually, we weren't quite finished, Gabi," says Erin. "We both regret taking off without you that night. Obviously we all know that Miss Detox over there was too intoxicated to realise what she was doing," she continues, pointing at Kelly, who looks embarrassed. "And I should never have abandoned you for the sake of a pathetic argument with Nick. So we're sorry, again."

Kelly repeats the apology, but I am smiling at them throughout the speech. "I already forgave you, so stop being sorry. Besides, I don't regret being _abandoned_," I tell them honestly. They look confused now.

"But you were so annoyed with us," says Kelly. I'm still smiling as I speak. You would've thought they'd have picked up on my meaning by now, but clearly they haven't. "I was, yes," I answer. "But maybe if you hadn't have left me, I would never have been the one to help Troy. I might never have met him. Don't get me wrong, watching that attack was probably the most horrific thing I have ever seen. But I don't regret being there."

My friends' faces change as though I have just delivered an inspirational speech of some kind. Well, if I have, I didn't realise I was doing it. It's simply how I feel. And when the girls ask me what I _do _regret, I suddenly realise I cannot actually come up with anything.

I'm sitting here, getting ready to toast the new year, and I can say in all honesty that I have no regrets about the past few months. None whatsoever. And just knowing that will see me through, until the day I get to be with Troy again.

**Next chapter: some time has passed and Gabriella must finally prepare for the moment she has spent months anticipating. **

**Please leave a Review! **


	18. Witness

**Hi readers! As always, thanks for reviewing. Here is chapter eighteen. This is the first part of the trial, and the italics later on in the chapter refer to Gabriella's flashbacks...so, enjoy :)**

Tomorrow is the day. I have been waiting for this; dreading it and yet also willing the day to hurry up.

I'm laying in silence, knowing that sleep may not come any time soon tonight. In just twelve hours, I will finally be in the same room as the love of my life again. But before we can _really _see each other, we have to see justice served first. I can only hope that our separation has been worth it.

I hold on to as much optimism as I can cling to as I close my eyes again in the darkness. In my hands is Troy's last letter to me, written the day before. This is where my positivity is coming from right now. His words are always with me, and I begin to silently recite what he told me in this latest letter.

_Dear Gabi,_

_This will be the last time I have to settle for talking to you through paper. I won't lie – the months I've spent without you have been unbearable. But I know it has been just as hard for you. _

_I want nothing more than to be by your side in court. I want to be your strength, and I know you would be mine too. But remember, we have come this far – apart but still, somehow, together._

_Don't be scared when the time comes to speak. I know there are going to be things said that will accuse, hound and upset you, because they will do the same to me. But we both know the truth. You have done nothing wrong – you were the only person brave enough, _kind _enough to stop and help a stranger. In years to come I will be so proud to tell people how we met. _

_I will tell everyone how the love of my life saved mine. And you saved me in more ways than one, Gabi. You saw the good in me even when I couldn't always see it myself, especially during my recovery. _

_I love you – and knowing that you know this will keep me going until I can say it to you in person. We are almost at the finish line now, my Gabi. Except that the end of this will mean the start of the rest of our lives together. So hold onto that thought, and I'll be with you soon._

_All my love, _

_Troy_

I feel a sudden calmness wash over me now, and I finally allow myself todrift off to sleep. When I wake up, I'll be ready for what is ahead. There simply is no other option.

_**.HSM.**_

I think I may have been a bit naïve this morning. My friends offered to come to court with me. Well, I should admit that Erin practically insisted – she said she and Kelly were more than willing to call in sick for work. But I said no. To be honest, I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts, especially on the way there. Now that I'm sitting in this huge building and waiting, though, I'm beginning to wish I had taken them up on their offer.

For a moment, I consider calling them – but they'll already be at work. My mum called this morning to ask if _she _could come, too. And again, I told her I would be fine. But I don't want her to worry, so there's no way I'm calling her now, either. I remind myself firmly that I have a job to do, and that only I can do it. Only I can tell everyone what happened to Troy in so much detail. I have to do this alone anyway. So, I tell myself to be brave. Just like I have been telling myself for the past nine months. Today is the most crucial day of the trial as far as I'm concerned, because it is the day I give my evidence. After today, I will only be returning to listen to the rest of the trial, as well as the verdict.

Around half an hour after I have arrived, I am finally approached by someone. A kind looking man introduces himself as a member of the Prosecution Team, and begins to go over what I can expect during the trial. He reveals that Brooks is pleading not guilty, and the very idea of it sickens me. I force the feeling away and listen intently, learning also that the entire case must be reviewed in detail before anything else happens. After a good few minutes the man excuses himself, informing me that proceedings will begin shortly, and that I will be told when it is my turn to go into the courtroom.

Only then do I realise that I could be in for a long wait before I am actually needed.

_**.HSM.**_

The hours pass by painfully slowly. I am completely alone in the waiting area, which is separate to the one in which the defendant's family would be waiting in. That's what they're calling Brooks, Troy's attacker. The defendant. The name just makes all of this sound so formal and dignified. Which is, of course, what court cases are supposed to be like. Only that man doesn't deserve his dignity. He almost took away Troy's the night he brutally kicked him over and over again.

The room I am sitting in is also nowhere near the area where Troy, Jack and Lucille would have been waiting. Otherwise I would have caught a glimpse of them at some point. However, while I may not be able to see him yet; I know that Troy is feeling just as many emotions as I am right now – if not more.

I just want to see him. I want to know if he's okay; I want to be a support to his parents, who have been so good to me from the moment they met me. But even when I set eyes on them at some point today, I still won't be able to do anything more than just that. I won't be able to talk to them. Not yet.

And until my name is called, I will feel useless just sitting here in silence, waiting.

"Gabriella Montez."

An usher has arrived to direct me to the courtroom, breaking into my thoughts. As I stand up to follow him, so many things go through my mind all at once. I feel relieved, yet nervous, scared and tense at the same time. This is it. This is what I promised myself I would do from the very beginning. I am about to relive the most horrifying event I have ever seen.

_**.HSM.**_

I am in a daze as I am led into the courtroom and over to the witness stand. I'm asked to swear on the bible that what I am about to say is the truth, and then it seems I am deemed 'ready' to be questioned. I only hope that I am able to recall everything on the spot. I have been going over every detail of that night ever since it happened; but this is so overwhelming.

Then I see him. Sitting in the gallery with his parents, watching me. He looks pale and exhausted, but he manages a smile that reaches his eyes. It's as though Troy knows I need the comfort – and it works. It's enough to remind me why I'm here today. I stare straight ahead as the Prosecutor stands up to address me.

"Miss Montez. You were present on the night of the incident, is that correct?"

_Incident? Well, if that's what they're going to call it. _"Yes, I was," I answer clearly. I am still looking straight ahead of me – I refuse to look anywhere else, because I know that somewhere in this room, Brooks is watching me. And if I catch a glimpse of him now, I'll freeze.

"We have reviewed your witness statement – which, for the purpose of this courtroom, was given the day after the assault. Miss Montez, can you tell the court in person, what you witnessed that night?"

And so I do. I recount every second of the attack, realising along the way that I was worrying over nothing about this moment. I can remember the minutest of details, down to what Brooks was wearing. I recall the fact that there was another man being beaten first, and that Troy stepped in to help him...

"_Hey, you! Stop it, you're going to end up seriously injuring him," the man shouts at the one throwing the punches._

"_Who do you think you are?" he slurs in reply, clearly far beyond drunk. "This is none of your business, mate."_

The Prosecutor stops me for clarification. "So the defendant was intoxicated before the incident took place?" he asks, and I affirm this to be the case. Then I continue my account, describing how Troy's interruption of the fight allowed the other man to escape. But this move almost cost Troy his life.

_Then everything seems to happen in slow motion. The drunk man hurls himself at the other, knocking him straight to the ground. There is no other movement from the man, who is now lying motionless. _

_I watch in horror, like the other onlookers around me, as he boots the poor man hard in the side. He does this three more times, and I can hardly bear to look any more._

The things I felt in those moments will stay with me just as much as what I saw. I was terrified, sickened, and stunned. But even more so I was floored that every other witness could walk away from this poor man. I find it even more difficult to cope with that fact now, knowing Troy as well as I do.

As I finish my story, the room is filled with nothing but complete silence. Then it is the turn of the defence to question me. And now I remember where my real worries came from. The most important part of my role is over; now I have to keep strong under the accusations which I know will come.

Brooks' barrister walks towards the stand. "Miss Montez, would I be correct if I were to state that you and the victim, Mr Bolton, have begun a relationship?"

"No," I reply. "We did date for a while, _after _the attack. But we haven't been together for months now." This is not a lie.

The defence seems unaffected by my correction, and the man briefly turns to look at the jury. "I put it to this court that the witness in this case, Miss Montez, was persuaded to lie about the circumstances of the assault as a result of her relationship with the victim."

It's happening right before my eyes. Everything I expected, everything I hoped I could prevent; but it's happening anyway. I want to shout at this man for getting it so wrong, but I know that I must wait in order to deliver my response calmly and reasonably. Brooks' barrister turns back to face me.

"Miss Montez, I put it to you that the events of the night in question were not as black and white as you make them out to be. Rather than the defendant just lashing out, out of nowhere, would I be right in suggesting that in fact the victim, Mr Bolton, was the one to start the fight – and therefore provoked the defendant?"

"No, that did not happen," I answer, trying to stay calm. Even though this implication is so ludicrous it makes me want to scream.

"You said yourself that Mr Bolton stepped in to break up a fight. Perhaps he threw a punch the defendant's way first?" asks the defence.

I take a deep breath. "No," I repeat. This man is twisting my words, ever so subtly. "That did not happen either. And he was not breaking up a fight – from what I witnessed, the defendant was attacking the other man first, which is why Mr Bolton tried to help."

"And you don't think," he replies, "that you could be painting rather too much of a pleasant picture of the victim, given how close you later became to him?"

Another deep breath. "Not at all. I did not even know Troy...Mr Bolton at this point, but when he was left unconscious on the street, all I knew was that I had to help him. The memory of what I saw, and of what the defendant did, will haunt me forever."

The defence does not fire another question my way, and the Prosecutor takes his chance to intercept. "I wish to again point out to this courtroom that, vitally, the witness' statement to the police was given in full the day after the attack. At this point it had been only a few hours since Mr Bolton had regained consciousness."

I watch as the entire room takes this statement on board. "Furthermore," he continues, "I ask you to consider why the victim would risk throwing a punch at the defendant in his drunken state. And, if he were to have provoked him, did he still deserve to be beaten within an inch of his life?"

There is yet more silence, and I wonder what is going to come next. I am dreading the thought of any more accusations.

To my relief, the Prosecutor looks to the defending barrister, who shakes his head. Then he looks back at me and states, "no more questions." As I let a breath out, I hear the judge give me permission to step down from the witness stand. Then I am led out of the courtroom.

I'd like to believe that the failure of the defence team to have the last word is a promising prospect. But I can't second guess anything yet.

What I am going to do next today, I do not know. I could go back in and watch, or I could go home. But in this moment I just need to catch my breath. What I do know is that I have done all I can. I have kept the promise I made to myself that night. Now all I can do is wait.

**What did you think? Next chapter: as the trial comes to an end, there are a few surprises to come first.**

**Please Review!**

**Thanks**


	19. Future

**Hello everyone! This is the last chapter of the story. Thank you so much for reading, reviewing and following. I hope you enjoyed this story, and I especially hope you like the ending! I will be adding an epilogue at some point, so look out for an update :) Anyway, here it is!**

It's day two, and here I am waiting again. Except that this time I can go into the courtroom when the trial continues for the day. I doubt very much that most witnesses actually come back once all their evidence has been given. But I am not like most witnesses. Seeing justice done is more important to me than it is to most others.

Yesterday I decided to go home soon after I left the courtroom. I knew without hesitation that I would be back the next day, as I had been told that the trial would not be resolved in just one day anyway. Until the verdict has been given, I still cannot risk being with Troy. That Prosecutor may have batted off the defence team in their insinuations yesterday, but there is no way of knowing what the jury are going to believe.

On either side of me is Erin and Kelly, who I admitted I could use the support from today. I'm not certain that there will be a verdict today, so if the trial lasts all week, I'm still going to be there. The school have given me annual leave for the week; understanding my role as a witness, but also the fact that the night I am reliving was a traumatic time for me. The girls are trying to keep me upbeat with small talk, to which I can't saying I'm listening right now. But it will be a very welcome distraction later, during what may be a long wait for the result.

Someone comes over to let us know that court is about to be back in session for the day, and the three of us stand up and slowly follow the man into the room. We are led to an area of the public gallery that is away from any family members of Brooks. We are also, as expected, nowhere near Troy either. But I can see him. And I know that by looking over at him, I am going to make myself miss him even more. But I won't have to miss him for much longer. I just have to keep that in mind. He is watching me too, and he gives me that smile that makes my heart skip a beat. Jack and Lucille are also smiling my way, and I smile back and then force myself to turn away and get ready to listen to the proceedings.

_**.HSM.**_

I couldn't even guess how much time has passed. I am simply transfixed with what is going on around me. While yesterday I couldn't bear to look at Troy's attacker for fear of it affecting my role, today I want to see his face. I want to search for any trace of guilt or repentance, but there appears to be none. This man is pleading not guilty, and is acting as though he is completely innocent. It's awful to watch this performance play out in front of my eyes, knowing what I saw that night.

Brooks has been questioned thoroughly now. He claimed that the blood found on his shirt by his mother was from a fight with a friend. And when asked about his mother's claims of a confession, he denied saying anything of the sort. He told the court that Troy provoked him into a fight first – just as the defence implied towards me yesterday.

Then Troy had to testify. He described everything from his point of view – watching the other attack just as I and the other people who were nearby were doing; then stepping in to help as he usually would have done through his job. Then he recalled the moment he was knocked to the ground. There were tears in my eyes as I heard him talk about how he couldn't even attempt to move or defend himself. He just had to wait until his attacker stopped kicking him, by which point he had lost consciousness. Finally, Troy was questioned and then accused of twisting the truth, and using me to help him. The defending barrister again suggested that he had provoked the attack, but Troy stayed firm and repeated over and over that this was the furthest thing from the truth. Eventually he was able to return to sit in the gallery.

And now, Brooks' mother has been called to the stand. She looks saddened – there really is no other word for it. Despite this, she speaks firmly and clearly while being questioned. The Prosecutor asks her to explain what she knows, and she answers in detail. We hear that Brooks' shirt was literally caked in Troy's blood – too much blood for it to simply have been a fight between the two. His mother says she asked him outright if he had anything to so with the 'attack she heard about on the news', and he started bragging about it. He told her that Troy 'had it coming' when he interfered with his business.

Hearing this makes me feel physically sick, but I need to keep listening. Next, she is asked about the contact she made with Troy via a phone call. I suppose I should have expected that the court would find out about that. The Prosecutor suggests that she was fishing for information about Troy that may help her son, but she strongly denies it. Brooks' mother claims that when she told her son about Troy's relationship with me, she hadn't realised until afterwards of the implications it would have. She says she was just trying to get through to her son by telling him what a 'decent young man' his victim was, and that Troy had managed to overcome what had happened to be happy.

She adds that the moment she worked out how her son would manipulate the information she gave him, she felt sick. Sick at the thought that he might get away with almost killing someone.

There is something in her voice; that tone, that makes me believe her. It's also the look in her eyes. She looks so certain of her own words, but she also looks ashamed that her own flesh and blood could do something so horrific. It is clear that her feelings about the attack are overpowering any possible sign of distress she may have about reporting her own son.

When she eventually leaves the stand, I am expecting this to be the end of the questioning. But instead, something else happens. Someone hands the Prosecutor a piece of paper, and he promptly approaches the judge to ask permission to call a last minute witness.

I cannot believe what I'm hearing. Someone must have had an attack of conscience. I sit there, with Erin and Kelly beside me, open-mouthed, and wonder who it is going to be. The judge grants permission for the witness to be called to the stand, and I look over to see a young girl who must only be a bit younger than myself. I remember her. She was standing quite near me that night, and was one of the last to walk away. As she reaches the stand and takes the oath, I study her face intently. She looks petrified – but obviously the thought of doing nothing was something she couldn't live with any longer.

The girl is questioned about why she only revealed herself as a witness at the last minute. "I was scared," she answers shakily. "But I kept seeing the man's face on the news – the one who got attacked. I realised I had to do something to help, because he could have died."

How it took her so long to see that, I'll never know. But at least she turned up. It may not be too late to make sure that Brooks gets what he deserves.

Seemingly satisfied with her response, the Prosecutor then asks for her account of what happened that night. As I listen, I find that her description of the attack matches mine exactly. And it should, too. After she has finished and is then examined a bit more, it is announced that there are no more questions. From this statement, I gather that the defence cannot even begin to argue against her testimony.

She steps down and is then led outside. And now everyone is silent as each argument is summed up in front of the judge. It is Brooks' word against so many others: mine, Troy's, Brooks' own mother, and the words of the surprise witness. But now it is all up to the jury to choose who they believe.

The judge adjourns so that the jury can consider the verdict. I have no idea how long they will take, but I'm not going anywhere. I head in the direction of the waiting area with my friends, and then stop suddenly when I hear voices. There is mumbling somewhere behind us, and then I hear one voice that overpowers all the others in a loud declaration.

"I can't wait any longer. I have to go to her, now," says Troy. I turn around to see him running past his parents, and down the hall towards me. As he gets closer he slows to a brisk walk. I don't know whether to go to him too or to just wait, but before I can do anything he is here, standing in front of me.

In a matter of seconds, I throw myself into his arms, and as he holds me I find myself bursting into tears. I don't know if it's just this moment, or whether it's because of the exhaustion of the trial and all those months without him. But I _do _know that I never want him to let go of me again after this.

"Hey hey hey, it's okay baby, I'm here now. I'm with you now and I'm not going anywhere. Please don't cry," Troy whispers as he cradles me.

"I love you, Troy," is all I can manage to whisper back to him right now. I can't bring myself to pull away quite yet, but I can hear the footsteps of my friends as they tiptoe past us down the hall. "I love you too," he replies, stroking my hair.

After a few more minutes I finally lift my head from it's place on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I mean, this has been just as hard for you, and the whole reason we're here is because of what happened to you. You have enough to deal with without me adding to it like this."

Troy shakes his head. "Gabi, we've been through this before, haven't we?" is his reply. "You were so brave in there yesterday, and you did so well. You have every right to get upset, you've been through just as much as I have. So don't be saying sorry, okay?"

I give a little nod, and then ask, "So, how are you?" I run my hand along his cheek and we both chuckle at how casual my question sounds.

"I'll be fine now that I'm with you," he replies, wiping a few stray tears from beneath my eyes.

"I can't even begin to tell you how much I missed you," I say quietly.

"Oh, Gabi," he replies, now wiping his own eyes. "I missed you too. I missed everything about you, every second of the day."

We sit and talk for what feels like ages – and it probably is. Troy tells me that our relationship cannot possibly be used against us anymore, now that the jury has heard the evidence of the unexpected witness. He says that now, the case doesn't just rely on my evidence, so he is past caring what people think about our relationship.

I am finally able to tell him in person how much the ring on my finger, and the promise he made, really means to me. And even more than that, I remind him just how much _he _means to me.

_**.HSM.**_

It has just been announced that a verdict has finally been reached, and Troy and I leave the waiting area and walk into the courtroom hand in hand. Being able to do that is a comfort for both of us in the anxiety that is this moment. We sit in the gallery next to Erin and Kelly, who had already returned to the room along with Jack and Lucille. Troy's parents smile warmly at me, and now I can't wait for this day to be over so that I can catch up with the family I have missed almost as much as Troy.

I give Troy a small smile and keep hold of his hand. We are both waiting anxiously, hoping that the right decision has been made. I close my eyes as I hear the question directed at the jury.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a decision?"

The foreman stands and nods, then answers simply, "Yes."

"On the charge of Actual Bodily Harm, how do you find the defendant?"

I am not a religious person, but I find myself silently sending a quick prayer to the sky as I wait for the response.

"Guilty," states the foreman of the jury. Both Troy and I let out a breath in relief. But it is not over yet.

"On the charge of attempted murder, how do you find the defendant?"

I hold my breath. This is, of course, the more serious charge. The fact that Brooks continued to kick Troy until he lost consciousness means that he intended to do more than just injure him. He also ran from the scene and left him for dead.

"Guilty," is what I hear next, and I glance briefly at the slumped figure of Brooks in the dock before turning to a smiling Troy and hugging him tightly. I am crying, and as I lean into him I realise that he is too. But these are tears that needed to be shed. They are tears of the pain he has gone through; the worry we've both experienced, and our long separation. But they are also tears of thankfulness that we found each other through all this. He has been through hell, but now he can put it behind him and move on – and I'll be right there with him as he does.

We all stand up from our seats, and Jack and Lucille hug Troy first, and then me. As we pull apart, the judge announces the sentencing.

It's a life sentence. He also adds that Brooks must serve a minimum of fifteen years before having any chance of consideration to be released.

And then, finally, he is taken away.

It's over.

I stand there watching him being led away and out of our lives, and a smile slowly creeps across my face. I feel like _I_ can really relax now too, for the first time in almost a year. Troy and I have waited so long for this, and there were many times where I thought we might not get through this; that our relationship might not survive it. But here we are, together again, and we're strong.

When we eventually begin to make our way outside, we take our time. My friends walk ahead with Jack and Lucille, while Troy and I stroll behind them. I think they sense that for now, we just need to be alone with each other.

As the others reach the building's exit and step outside, Troy stops before we even reach the door and turns to face me, taking my hands in his as I spin around to look at him. His eyes are shining with more tears as he speaks in a voice full of pure emotion. "Thank you."

My own eyes are clouding over with new tears, but I smile softly up at him and manage a response. "You know, that was the first thing you ever said to me when we met." I close my eyes, picturing that day in the hospital room. When I open them, I find that my tears have begun to spill over. "And it made me cry then, too," I add with a small chuckle.

Troy laughs with me, then brushes my tears away. "That day, I was thanking a stranger for saving my life. I remember thinking I could never feel more grateful than I did in that moment. But today I know that the only reason I'm standing here, having seen justice done, is because of you. You put your own happiness on hold to make sure that Brooks wouldn't walk free. I'm still alive because of you; I stayed positive because of you, and I'm full of strength because of you. I will love _you_, Gabriella Montez, for the rest of my life. And I will be thankful until the day I die that you were the one to stay by my side that night."

I lean into him, nudging our foreheads together. "I don't regret it for a second," I tell him. "Not one single second. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Troy. When I met you, I had never been in love before. I had no idea what it would feel like. But now I know that it's beyond anything I could ever have imagined. I'm in love with the most courageous man I've ever known, and I'll never be able to stop feeling this way."

Troy strokes my hair, and then his thumb gently brushes across my cheek. And as he leans closer and kisses me lovingly, I become lost in a world where we are the only two people. Our future is stretching out ahead of us, and it looks brighter than ever.

I used to only ever hear about these moments; and those events that determine the future. Now I know that one day, I will be the one telling the story about the night that changed my life forever.

**Thanks for reading.**

**As always, please leave a Review and let me know what you thought, and look out for the epilogue!**

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	20. Epilogue

**Hello everyone! Well, this is the final chapter and the epilogue of this story. Thank you for reading and supporting it, it is much appreciated! I loved writing this last chapter. It is written in Troy's perspective. But also unlike the previous chapters, it is written in a way that shows Troy looking _back_ on what happened directly after the trial ended, rather than describing it as the present day. I hope you all enjoy reading it :)**

My name is Troy Bolton. When I was in my twenties, I was attacked and left for dead on a London street after attempting to calm down a drunken, violent man. Only one person stopped to help me. It is thanks to her that I am here today to tell this story. And now, I am going to tell you how ours ended. Or rather, how our lives began.

There are many memories that stick out in my mind in that first year of knowing Gabriella, the woman who saved my life. But one thing I will never forget is how I felt that day when I finally got to be with her again after so many months apart. We had just seen the man who almost killed me found guilty in court, and in the moments following that, I told her how grateful I was to have her. I told her how much I loved her.

In the weeks before the trial, I had bought an engagement ring, knowing already that I wanted to marry her. I carried the ring with me everywhere from the moment I bought it, which was why it was sitting in my pocket all through the trial, and when we were finally reunited. We hadn't even been together a full year yet – and we had just spent the last nine months of our relationship apart; but I knew that I had found the love of my life. Gabi and I knew better than most people how fragile life could be – so I didn't want to waste another second of it.

Before I could do anything with the small velvet box in my pocket, though, we had to see the rest of the day out. It was time to make a fresh start after everything we had been through. When we finally left the building of the court, Gabi and I went back to my parents' house, along with her friends Erin and Kelly. Gabi called her mother during the drive home, and she came over so that she could meet my mum and dad for the first time among our celebrations. Chad and Taylor were also waiting for us upon our arrival.

After going through all the necessary introductions, everyone sat down while my mother brought out some snacks and offered drinks. It wasn't so much a party, as just a small gathering of all the people Gabi and I cared about the most.

Gabi stood up and offered to help with the drinks, but my mum insisted that she stay put. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you and I will catch up properly later. But right now the two of you deserve to relax," she said with a warm smile.

My dad looked over and smiled just as brightly. "We've missed having you around here, Gabriella. Obviously, not as much as Troy has, but..."

"Yes, alright," I interrupted, turning what I'm sure was a deep shade of red. "Thanks, Dad." What else could I say, though? It was the truth.

Gabi giggled, a sound which had been missing from my life for far too long. "I've missed you and Lucille too, Jack," she replied. Then, as an afterthought, she whispered to me, "and you already know how much I've missed you." I simply smiled down at her as she cuddled into my side.

"So Troy, how does it feel to know that the trial is all over and done with?" piped up Chad. I was just about to answer him when Taylor spoke as well.

"I think the real question we should be asking is, how does it feel now that all the waiting is over?" she asked, looking between Gabi and I meaningfully. She clearly wasn't looking for an actual answer; it was obvious how we really felt.

As the afternoon turned into evening, our time was spent chatting easily. Smiles, laughter and happiness filled the room. I had missed this.

I had spent every day since our separation thinking of Gabriella. Thinking of the day I could see her again; thinking about the trial, and thinking about everything. Yes, I had coped; but only thinking of her had given me the strength to do that.

Now I didn't have to think in order to keep myself sane. I could simply live. And I was going to start the very moment I revealed the ring from it's hiding place.

_**.HSM.**_

When we left my parents' house, we went back to my flat for the night – Gabriella having told her friends she would be back home later the next day.

As I led her inside I couldn't help but smile as she let out a yawn. "Sorry," she said, clearly fighting to stay awake. "It's our first night together again and here I am yawning in your face." She spoke as though she was expecting me to be put off by her exhaustion. But I don't think she realised just how amazing she was to me, and just how much I had missed her.

"You have no idea quite how beautiful you are, do you?" I said softly. I watched her as she looked up in surprise.

"I thought I was supposed to be the random one," Gabi replied as we sat down. "What brought that on?"

"You did," I told her as she laid her head on my lap. "Gabi, I have waited the longest time just to be with you, to hold you, and to look after you. It doesn't matter what we do tonight; if you fall asleep it just means I'm going to be watching you sleep until I fall asleep myself. So don't apologise for being tired, okay?" I paused for a moment when I caught her grinning. "What?" I asked, aware that I had probably been rambling.

"You make me so happy, Troy," she whispered.

"Well that's good, because you make me happy too," I replied. "Come on baby, I know you're tired. Why don't you come and lie down in my bed."

Gabi smiled up at me sleepily as I helped her to her feet. "What, you're not going to lie down with me?" she asked. "Because you know, I've been waiting a long time to fall asleep in your arms again." Her smile had turned mischievous and I knew that she was playing on my words from before; but I also knew that she meant it. And there was no way I wasn't going to stay with her that night. We had both waited far too long. Not to do anything in particular – but to just be together like this.

"Of course I'm going to lie down with you. Now come on – sleep," I said by way of an answer as I led her into my bedroom. She didn't bother arguing, and by the time we had made ourselves comfortable, I realised how exhausted I was myself.

As I wrapped my arms around Gabriella and closed my eyes, the sound of her peaceful and steady breathing soothed me into sleep. Somewhere in my last few conscious moments, I remembered the ring that was still sitting in my pocket. But I knew that it didn't matter that I hadn't asked her tonight. We had all the time in the world now. And I was still getting used to that.

_**.HSM.**_

I woke up hours later to find the room still in darkness, and the clock reading midnight. Beside me, Gabi was still fast asleep. I remember seeing her face in those first moments after I awoke, and just looking at it for the longest time. I memorised every feature, and then began to softly trace the outline of her face with my thumb. I wanted to let her sleep, but I just couldn't help but remind myself that she was in front of me – she was here.

I watched as her lips slowly twitched into a smile, and her eyes fluttered open. Memorisation had never been needed; I would never forget her eyes. And I would never forget the way they looked as they connected with mine.

"Hi," she whispered, that smile still on her face.

"Hi," I replied, reaching up to stroke her hair away from her eyes.

"What time is it?" she asked, looking as though she was beginning to wake up properly. "It's late," I told her. "Hey, you don't have to try and wake up just because I have. Feel free to go back to sleep."

"So you can watch me again?" she replied with a grin. I looked away for a moment and let out a chuckle. "No, really, I'm fine. I'm actually wide awake now," she added.

"Me too," I agreed. It was then that an idea came to me. "Hey, Gabi? Do you want to take a walk with me?"

Gabriella looked at me as though I was crazy – as I suppose anyone else _would _think after hearing such a question at that time of night. "A _walk_?" she repeated as though checking she had heard me right. "What on earth..."

"I know it's the middle of the night, but..." I tried to explain, then realised I was making very little sense as it was. "Just humour me, okay?" I said gently, hoping that she would just go with it.

Gabi nodded, but I was certain she still thought me deluded. We got up and made our way out, heading towards my front door. On the way I picked up my jacket, and an extra one for Gabi. Once we were both wrapped up warm, we crept outside quietly. I knew exactly where I was going to take her; but we had another stop to make first. I stopped her when we reached my car, and she looked up at me in confusion.

"Troy, I thought we were going for a walk?" she said, the look on her face telling me she was trying to work out my thought process.

"We are. I mean, we will be," I answered quietly, trying to swallow my sudden case of nerves. Shrugging, Gabi got into the passenger seat and let me continue in my randomness.

Five minutes later, I pulled up next to a shop window. "Are you hungry?" I asked, hoping that she would be. She smiled, and then chuckled when she noticed where we were.

"All of a sudden I'm starving, yes," she replied. We got out of the car and walked inside the shop, and I retrieved my wallet from one of my pockets.

"Two portions of fish and chips, please," I asked the assistant behind the counter. This was the only fish and chip shop that stayed open past midnight, and right now I was glad for it.

We got back into the car and I continued to drive for another five or ten minutes, while Gabi clutched the bag containing our supper. As we reached our destination, I asked her to close her eyes. Then I parked the car, got out and opened the door for her.

As she stepped out into the cool night air and opened her eyes, she gasped in surprise at where I had taken her. I'm not sure, at this point, whether she had worked out why we were here.

I had always remembered her telling me about an early memory she had from a visit to a beach. She had told me something even I had found unforgettable. And somehow I already knew that tonight's visit to this local beach would be just as memorable.

"Before we go on that walk, why don't we go and sit over there so we can eat?" I suggested, pointing to a single bench, situated at the pier end of the beach.

If Gabriella had been shocked before, now she looked almost speechless. With one of my hands, I took the bag from her; with my other I laced our fingers together. Then I led her over to the seat. We sat down and I could feel her eyes on me as I carefully unwrapped our fish and chips, setting them down on our laps.

I kept expecting her to say something, but instead she wore the brightest of smiles as we began to eat. Halfway through our meals I reached for her free hand, cradling it gently in mine. I stole a glance at her, my Gabi, to find that she was studying me with tears in her eyes. That smile hadn't faltered, though.

"You remembered..." she breathed softly. I simply smiled and, after a minute, offered her one of my chips. She let out a tearful giggle and took it from me. "You remembered what I told you about that old couple," was what she said next. "You even remembered those earrings I pointed out. I really didn't think anyone would ever be interested in my little ramblings."

"I remember everything you tell me, Gabi," I replied sincerely. As we digested the last of our chips, I took a deep breath and told her what I'd been waiting for months to say out loud.

"I could tell you again how you saved my life; and how thankful I am today that you were the one to help me that night. But I think you know all of that by now, and I'm sure I've already repeated it over and over again since the moment I met you." Gabriella was smiling fondly at me, staying silent as I continued.

"This night isn't about any of that, though. This is just about me and you. Gabriella, I brought you here to let you know something. I want to grow old with you. I want us to be that couple sitting by the beach, hand in hand with our fish and chips. Spending all that time away from you made me even more certain that I just cannot do it again. I cannot be away from you like that ever again." Her cheeks were stained with fresh tears by now, and her breath caught in her throat as she watched what I did next.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the little box. At this point I considered getting down on one knee, but then I reminded myself that Gabi had never wanted big gestures like that. And it just wasn't 'us' anyway.

So instead I took hold of her hand, opened the box and spoke softly but clearly. "I once told you that one day, I would give you something that means we will never be apart again. That was a promise, and so is this: I love you more than I ever thought possible in this world. Will you marry me?"

Gabriella let out a long, shaky breath as if trying to steady herself, then took another deep one before breaking the silence indefinitely. "Yes," she answered loudly. "Yes, I will marry you Troy!" In the next second she had flung herself at me, not even stopping to let me put the ring on her finger.

We stayed like that for several minutes, making a memory of this moment together. When I finally pulled back, I took the ring from it's box and slowly placed it on her finger. Gabi marvelled at the sight of it, sitting delicately on her hand as though it belonged there. I moved closer to her and kissed her softly on the lips. "I love you so much," she whispered as she buried her head in my chest.

"I love you too, my Gabi," I whispered back as I gently pulled her to her feet and began to walk us across the pier and into the sand. As we strolled along the beach, arm in arm, she suddenly turned to me and said, "can I tell you something?"

I nodded, wondering what she was going to say. "The night you were attacked, I had a choice. But the choice wasn't whether or not to help you. I never gave myself a choice on that I just...I just had to do something. There was never any question of leaving you alone on that street. The choice I had that night was whether or not to come back to that hospital. It was a strange feeling that I couldn't even explain to myself; but I felt connected to you. And by the time I'd met your mum and dad and heard all about you, I knew I had to meet you. I just wanted you to know that I am so unbelievably glad of the decision I made. Thinking about what my life would be like without knowing you now – it actually scares me."

I stared at her, in awe of her words and for a moment, I was lost for any of my own. Finally, my brain engaged enough to allow me to respond. "Thank you so much for telling me that," I said, wrapping her in my arms.

Some feelings in life are indescribable. That was the only way I could sum up my thoughts as I walked along the sand with Gabi, knowing that one day soon she was going to be my wife.

One day you are lying in the street, unconscious and bleeding. The next you find yourself living again, with hope, strength, and love of such power that you never even knew it existed.

My name is Troy Bolton. And this is how my story ended. But then again, as I said before; this was really only the beginning.

**Hope you liked it! **

**Please leave a review and let me know want you thought of the story.**

**I am thinking of doing a sequel to this, as I've loved writing these versions of Troy and Gabriella. If you would be interested in reading that, please let me know in your review.**

**Thank you for reading!**


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